Free Fall
by CrackedCompass
Summary: (A sequel to Skyrider) Despite returning to London, nothing has gone back to normal for agent Arthur Kirkland, as his experience in America has changed the agent, and he isn't sure whether it was for the best. However, his past isn't far behind him, as one of his CIA comrades turns up in hostage video, and now it is his mission to get him back and face the man he left in America.
1. Chapter 1

Upon his return to London, Arthur had hoped that things would immediately return to normal, however; he was wrong.  
America had changed him, and he didn't know whether it had changed him for the better.

Arthur glanced at Gilbert as his new German partner pressed his back against the wall, listening into the hotel room from the other side of the door. Recently MI6 had received a tip-off that an assassination attempt was going to be carried out during a speech being performed by a Minister hopeful, that was due to be taking place in a couple of minutes in the park that stood across the road from the hotel. All sources pointed to a notorious assassin being behind the threat: an Austrian killer-for-hire by the name of Roderich Edelstein. Who hired the assassin is a matter that the agents would have to deal with later; right now the matter at hand was preventing the assassination from happening at all.

Gilbert opened the door and quickly marched in with Arthur in tow, and systematically he and Arthur marched in with their guns at the ready, "Clear!" Arthur announced as he checked every corner of the main room, looking past the twin beds and into the walk-in wardrobe.

"Clear!" Gilbert confirmed after glancing into the bathroom.

Immediately the agents moved to the next room, checking it as thoroughly as they did the last, as each room was proven to be empty, the agents didn't know whether they should take this as a good sign, or as a signal to worry: did they have it right...?

Gilbert went to open the door to the hotel room; however, the doorknob didn't budge. Arthur and Gilbert glanced at each other as Gilbert slowly tried again to turn the doorknob; however, its stubbornness persisted.

"Shit!" Gilbert hissed as he stepped back before kicking the door down with his black boot, breaking the foundations of the doorknob and the lock, forcing it open. Promptly, Arthur and Gilbert ran inside with their guns at the ready, bursting into the dark hotel room.  
Despite the front desk informing the agents that the hotel room wasn't booked to anyone's name, it was obvious that someone was living there, a suitcase laid open on the bed and clothes were arranged around the room, along with packets of food and books as well as notes of paper were scattered around the floor.  
Immediately the curtains were drawn shut, plunging the room into darkness, until Arthur flipped the light switch, brightening the room. A man was laying on the floor in front of the window, recoiling at the sudden burst of light in the room, next to him sat a large gun, that was propped up on a small tripod.

"Put your hands behind your head, Edelstein!" Gilbert ordered as he hovered his gun over the stunned Austrian. As Gilbert proceeded with the arrest, Arthur found himself looking around the hotel room, desperate to find clues as to who put the Austrian assassin up to the task.  
Everyone in the hotel room froze when the noise of applause erupted through the room, echoing from the park across the road.

"We were just in time," Gilbert pointed out as he forced the Austrian to his feet, with his hand handcuffed behind his back. "The speech is starting."

"He's been staying her for a while… there's at least a month's worth of food scraps here…" Arthur pointed out, rummaging through the small bin, before standing in Gilberts way as he began to take the Austrian out of the hotel room. "You're too picky for a long-term job; you must have been paid a lot for this one…"

Roderich didn't reply, instead of speaking, the assassin smiled as though Arthur had told a joke, which told the Englishman that he was right about his assumption.

Of course the Austrian refused to speak to the police, but Arthur knew that it wouldn't be long until the Agents would know who hired him to do it. However, that was none of Arthur's concern: his job was to simply find the assassin, and he did it well.

"I spoke with Ludwig last night…" Gilbert explained, "He told me to thank you again for your help, as well as offered—"

"I don't want their Band-Aid mental health solutions, I am fine," Arthur grimaced.

"I was going to say a meeting with the president at next year's state dinner; but if you're going to be a jerk about it, I'll just tell him that you'll pass," Gilbert explained, "He also told me that you made a lot of friends there, but you didn't say—"

Gilbert was interrupted by Arthur's glare, however, Arthur couldn't deny what the German was talking about: as Arthur hadn't even said goodbye to Ludwig, not even Feliciano got a goodbye from him… Arthur told himself that he did that because he always hated goodbyes, that there was no point because he was only going to linger on the fact that he was never going to see those people again, saying goodbye was only going to make leaving and staying away harder… especially for… Arthur shivered at the mental image of Alfred leaning in to kiss him, dreading the idea of saying goodbye to him, knowing that it would be one of the hardest things he'd ever have to do. He would be saying goodbye to someone who understood his suffering, made him happy.  
Those beautiful eyes filled Arthur's chest with warmth, he didn't want to say goodbye to that, he just wanted to move on, and saying goodbye would open Arthur's heart for lingering feelings.

Besides, it would have been better for them if Arthur had just disappeared, especially after what happened to Matthew. Despite knowing what was going to happen, Arthur still left Matthew alone in the building with that bomb, and held Alfred back as he screamed to save his friend… Alfred probably hated him for it.

Eventually Arthur and Gilbert arrived back at the MI6 base, a place that Arthur had grown to actually miss during his time away; however, what had changed was the emergence of a new agent.  
Yao had joined MI6 at least a week after Arthur left for America, immediately proving his use for the team.

"Gilbert!" Yao cried as soon as Arthur and Gilbert entered his field of vision, "something came in the mail for you!"

"What?" Gilbert asked, frowning with confusion, as the Asian flashed a yellow envelope with _'Gilbert Beilschmidt'_ and the address of the MI6 offices written in black marker. Gilbert took the envelope, feeling the hard mass in the corner of the envelope.

"We don't get personal mail here…" Arthur pointed out as he and his fellow agent shared concerned glares.  
Impatiently Gilbert opened the envelope and took out the device, a small memory stick… Arthur watched Gilbert's expression change drastically as he glanced at Yao.

"It seems safe…" Yao muttered.

"Well, I'm not putting it in my computer, I've angered a loooot of tech experts in my time," Gilbert pointed out as he nervously fiddled with the golden ring on his finger, before handing the small memory stick to Yao.  
Yao quickly inserted the memory stick into his computer, only to see the files open to reveal only one video file.

Instantly, the presence of a simple video file sent a shiver down Arthur's spine, immediately Arthur remembered what he had seen the last time a memory stick was received in the mail… Arthur's mind was blasted with the image of Matthew strapped to a chair, terrified as his Russian captor spat demands towards the camera.

Yao played the video, and at first the screen turned black, until the camera turned on, revealing a face that made everyone present freeze with shock.

Arthur couldn't believe what he was seeing, nor the shocked choking noise that came out of Gilbert's mouth as the camera revealed a familiar figure sitting in a chair, slumped over and tired…

"Feli…" Gilbert whispered with shock as his hand covered his mouth.

"Feliciano Vagaras! From the CIA!" Yao pointed out loudly.

"Oh god…" Gilbert gasped, quickly taking out his phone, "I need to call Ludwig, _now!"_

"What the hell is he doing there?!" Arthur asked as he leant over Yao's chair, intensely watching the footage, as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing, "why are _we_ receiving this?!"

"Could he be in London?" Yao asked.

Suddenly, red text appeared on the footage, as though it was subtitles.

 _Here we have Agent Inferno; Feliciano Vagaras, a special agent of the CIA. We show you this footage to reveal that he is captured, and is currently being held in London.  
Take this as a statement that much worse is to come.  
A video shall arrive shortly after this one with our demands. _  
_Do not try to find us, otherwise; Agent Vagaras may never see the sun again._


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur couldn't take his eyes off of the screen, he felt that same dip in his heart as he had when he first watched Matthew in his own hostage video, he dreaded whatever Feliciano's kidnappers had in store for him.

"Play it again," Arthur ordered.

"Ludwig!" Gilbert sighed with relief as he paced behind Arthur, talking to his brother on the phone, "I don't care what time it is! It's Feli! He's here, in London! It's not good at all; you need to get here now! No I swear! We just got a memory stick in the mail and it has him on it! I know it's just like Ma- I don't care who you have to talk to: I'll take care of things on my end!"

"So, his little brother's going to come to London…" Yao muttered, glancing back to see Gilbert pacing like a nervous wreck as he spoke to his little brother over the phone.  
Arthur frowned, as he looked down at Yao, wondering how the man knew who Ludwig was, and then he remembered: Gilbert talks about Ludwig obsessively; people who didn't know him well would think that Ludwig was his child. Arthur knew a lot about him before his journey to Washington DC, however, he hadn't seen his face: Gilbert was careful about that because despite the fact of how proud he was of Ludwig: he cared about protecting his identity.

Yao finally clicked the play button again, and the video replayed, this time Arthur watched it more intensely, trying to pick out any clue that he could in this process, Arthur instinctually leant in closer to the screen.

Feliciano was the focal-point of the video, his head and shoulders sat in the middle of the frame: his wide and terrified eyes stealing everyone's attention as tears rolled down his cheeks. There was a white cloth stuffed into his mouth, effectively silencing the Italian as his shoulders rose and fell in time with his frantic panting. Arthur was relieved to see that he didn't appear physically hurt, only terrified beyond comprehension.  
However, the video offered no other information, as the only things that could be seen in the entire footage was Feliciano's face and the red brick wall behind him. There was nothing else that offered any clues as to where he could be, Arthur couldn't even figure out what time of day this could have been filmed at. The only way they could get more information is to speak with Ludwig; as he could tell them the last time he saw Feliciano, which could offer some insight into when Feliciano was taken.  
Until then, Arthur was hopeless.

"They say that there will be something about another video arriving," Yao pointed out, as he began to play the video for a third time, "We'll have to keep surveillance on mail, I don't know whether dusting the envelope for prints will do us any good."

"I don't care," Gilbert pointed out as he put his phone back into his the pocket of his fitted jacket, "do what we can, this is personal. They've taken a top CIA agent and dragged the UK into it. This is huge."

"So, will Ludwig be coming to London?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, he's going to arrange for it as soon as he can, whereas, I now need to go and speak to the higher-ups, they'll need to know about this," Gilbert explained, "god, it's a fucking agent-exchange program."

"When did you get back from America, again?" Yao asked as Arthur watched Gilbert jog out of the office.

"Just over two months ago," Arthur answered, "Focus: is there anything else on the memory stick, anything you can pull up?"

"Nothing, the stick is standard, completely clean: except for the video," Yao explained, "Oh, I hope he's going to be ok… I heard your last kidnapping case didn't go so well."

"I'd prefer it if we didn't speak about that," Arthur grumbled, narrowing his eyes at the man who sat at the desk, Yao shuddered, as though he knew that he had crossed a line.

"I-I'm sorry," Yao stuttered.

"Forget about me. Just get that envelope down to forensics and have them swab it for prints: Gilbert will kill us if we don't at least do something," Arthur replied.

Arthur internally panicked as he imaged what horrors that poor Italian could be going through, all Arthur had to compare his experience to was what happened to Matthew, and what a degraded state the Canadian was in during his time under Ivan's control. And how the entire episode ended with nothing but death, destruction and pain.  
Right when Arthur thought that he could escape it all; his experience in America follows him home, it stays with him in the form of horrible nightmares, gut-wrenching guilt and crippling anxiety.

Within a week, Arthur was hearing the news that Ludwig had arrived in London, and was on his way to the base thus; Gilbert was frantic, running around to collect all of the evidence they had: which wasn't much.

"I see that Feliciano is very important to Ludwig," Yao pointed out.

"More than important, that's why we need to work extra hard on this case: it's personal," Gilbert explained.

"I'm still stuck, why would they kidnap Feliciano; what does he have to offer? I thought he had administrative roles…" Arthur muttered as he twisted his pen in his fingers, as he thought about all of the duties he saw Feliciano perform during his time in America.

"He used to be a field agent, but now he's mainly administrative, and works closely with Ludwig, He has a whole range of roles; the entire place can't run without him, not to mention, Ludwig would be a complete mess without him," Gilbert replied, "that's why they need him back, and we're going to do everything we can to help them."

"I didn't know MI6 cared so much about their relationship with the CIA…" Yao muttered, not looking up from his computer screen.

"We have to," Gilbert pointed out as the elevator doors to the floor opened, and two tall figures stepped out. "Ludwig!" Gilbert exclaimed, before taking his younger, but taller brother in for a supportive hug, "We're going to find him, no matter what."

Arthur's eyes widened when the second figure stepped past Ludwig, keeping his deep blue eyes focussed on the red carpeting of the office, immediately, Arthur felt his heart tense within his chest as he watched the man move around the office.

"Alfred…" Arthur gasped, immediately, the man's head shot up and he finally looked Arthur in the eyes, and did not look happy to see him.  
His eyes stabbed Arthur in the chest, creating an intense burning sensation within his heart, Arthur's anxiety reached a height that made him want to hide and never come out, he regretted everything he had ever done in his entire life with an unhealthy intensity.

"It's good to see you," Ludwig said to Arthur extending his hand for a handshake, "Gilbert has told me that you've been doing well, that's nice."

"T-thanks…" Arthur muttered, shaking the Germans hand.

"Are you ok?" Yao asked.

"I'm fine!" Arthur snapped, as he tensed his shoulders. "Just… we should start to work on finding Feliciano…"

"Right," Ludwig replied, somewhat sympathetic of Arthur's positon, "show me the video."

As Gilbert led Ludwig towards Yao's computer, Arthur watched Alfred follow Ludwig and pass Arthur closely, staring at him, his eyes narrowed by bitterness, and tired from visible lack of sleep. "Alfred, I…"

"Don't." Alfred hissed, only to quickly turn his back to the Brit, "If I mean that little to you: don't even bother talking to me…" Arthur could only sigh when he watched Alfred's hand tighten into trembling fists, like his entire persona of a scorned man was beginning to crumble.  
Arthur knew how that felt, because he was beginning to crumble himself.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a week since Alfred and Ludwig's arrival, and so far, nothing new had been heard of from Feliciano's kidnappers. Thus, slowly, the spirits of every agent who worked on the case began to deteriorate with every day.

That was until Arthur had managed to track down security footage from a shop in downtown Washington DC…

Everyone gathered around the computer screen as Arthur inserted the disk and waited for the footage to load.

The street was empty, except for a couple of cars driving past, and very few pedestrians walking down the street, Arthur fast forwarded the footage until the time he was recommended to stop at. Everyone held their breath when Feliciano walked by the camera, carrying a shopping bag and looking on his phone. Everything seemed normal until a car pulled into the parking space that Feliciano had just walked past, Feliciano looked up and noticed the car, however seemed to think nothing of it: no one could blame him, a car parking is nothing suspicious.  
In the corner of his eye, Arthur watched Ludwig flinch as two figures crept out of the car moments after stopping, both wearing black ski-masks. They creeped behind Feliciano and before the Italian could take another step; one placed a white handkerchief over Feliciano's face.

"They chloroformed him…" Alfred gasped as he tightened his grip on his sides.

Arthur was not disappointed to watch Feliciano fight back; he forced himself out of his captors grip and threw a punch, knocking him over. However, before Feliciano could run, he found himself being tackled by the second figure. Everyone watched in horror as Feliciano desperately fought off his attacker, however, Feliciano's breaking point was when he was pinned down by the hands and chest by one attacker, as the other pressed the cloth onto the Italians face, and eventually, Feliciano's legs stopped kicking, and the Italian went limp.

"He tried so hard…" Yao sighed as the footage showed Feliciano being dragged back to the car, before being thrown in before the vehicle drove off.

"We're… We're looking for three suspects…" Gilbert stuttered, fighting away his emotions, and the urge to cry, for the German knew that he had to stay strong. "Two performed the kidnapping, and one drove the car…"

"This happened three days before we received the video…" Arthur pointed out before glancing at Alfred, who continued to stare at the screen, despite the video being over, his face was firm and his eyes were wide, as though he was reliving his own kidnapping experience. "Are you ok, Alfred?"

Alfred shook himself out of his dream, before looking at Arthur with narrowed and sharp eyes, which stabbed the Englishman in the heart despite not actually saying anything with his mouth, his eyes said everything to Arthur.

Ludwig was visibly shaken by the experience, his eyes darted to the floor when attention was focussed on him, Feliciano was so important to him, so everyone understood why he would be so affected by this.  
"Have you checked the security footage of the MI6 postal office, when did the memory stick come and where did it come from?"

"The envelope was unmarked, that's why they gave it straight to me the day it came in," Yao explained before looking to Kiku.

"I checked it for any foreign fingerprints, however, the only prints I could find were that of the postal handlers, and Yao's," Kiku explained, "so that rules out finding them through fingerprints."

"The most we can do is wait for the next letter…" Yao sighed, "They have us right where they want us."

"But we can't just wait!" Ludwig snapped, startling half of the agents with the volume of his voice.

"Ludwig, I know you're getting stressed, this is Feliciano… I have agents throughout the entire city checking kidnapping hotspots, seeing if someone knows something—"

"He could be dead!" Ludwig snapped, turning to face his brother, "if you let me interview some people we could have answers _very quickly…"_

"Ludwig, no! I know what you're thinking! It's not a good idea, we have morals and protocol that we have to follow!" Gilbert replied as Ludwig's gritted his teeth. "What if you speak to someone and they're a snitch!? Feli would be in even more danger! If we're going to do this together, we need to do it the legitimate way!"

"Then…" Ludwig sighed as his hands tightened into fists, "Then we aren't doing this together!"

"Ludwig, you are behaving like a child," Gilbert pointed out as he followed his brother away from the computer as everyone watched in shock.

"You don't know what I'm going through; I'm going to get him back, no matter what!" Ludwig grumbled as he opened the drawer and stared looking through the car and motorcycle keys.

"Don't act like you're alone in this, you're not the only person who's being hurt by this!" Gilbert pointed out, before flashing the golden ring on his finger, "I know I can't imagine how you're feeling right now, and the idea of something like this happening to Liz scares me, I want to help you get Feli back."

"Then you have to let me do this…" Ludwig replied as he snatched a pair of keys, that Arthur recognised as one of the motorcycle keys.  
Before Gilbert could tell him off, he bolted out of the office, leaving Gilbert alone, standing in shock.

"Fine then, you to play; I'll play!" Gilbert grumbled before looking to his watch, "Berwald, Tino. Come in."

"Present," A voice replied from the watch.

"Any second now, a tall blonde is going to arrive in the garage and take a motorcycle, track him. Do not take your eyes off of him, but don't let him become aware of you," Gilbert explained, before sighing deeply, "I'm not going to let him do anything stupid…"

"Are you sure you don't want me to track him?" Alfred asked as the group dispersed, and everyone but Alfred and Arthur returned to their duties.

"No, I'm going to handle it; he's my responsibility," Gilbert replied as he ran his hand through his light hair. "Just… keep reviewing footage…"

Gilbert turned away and walked out of the office, shaking his hands along the way, leaving Alfred and Arthur standing together.

"Alfred," Arthur said, turning to look at the American who crossed his arms over his chest. Arthur knew what he wanted to talk about, he wanted to talk about why Arthur left without saying goodbye, especially after the moment they nearly shared… they could have been something, but Arthur struck that hope down before anything could begin, not giving Alfred a chance. He wanted to say that he was sorry, he wanted to explain that he was scared, and that he did indeed feel something special with Alfred, that the American was special to him… and Arthur knew that Alfred would have wanted to hear those things right now.  
But… he couldn't bring himself to say it, not out loud at least… Alfred stared at him, begging with his eyes to relieve his pan, but Arthur could only remain silent and stare at Alfred like a nervous teenager.  
"We should look through the footage from Heathrow airport… We need to know how they got here…"

Alfred exhaled sharply, relieving the pressure that had built up between them, "Right."

Alas, no matter how much footage Alfred and Arthur privately reviewed, they couldn't spot the Italian in any of the area's major airports… eventually they concluded that Feliciano and his kidnappers arrived in London some other way.

Eventually Arthur arrived back to his apartment, poured himself some tea and sat down to read… He needed to calm down. Despite this, he could not bring himself to rest… the look in Alfred's eyes chilled him to the bone.  
He knew that he would live to regret his decision, he just didn't think that it was going to come back to haunt him so soon after. He couldn't bring himself to say goodbye to Alfred and now he's ruined any kind of positive relationship that they could have, all because of his own insecurities. Arthur tried to not be so hard on himself, as far as he knew: he was going to never see Alfred again, it wasn't worth opening his heart to injury through saying goodbye.

Arthur lifted his head in surprise when he heard the doorbell ring, Arthur glanced at the clock as he rose from his seat, 11:30pm… who in their right mind would come to visit him at this hour? Despite this, he walked to the front door and opened it, only to be shocked by who he saw staring at him from the other side.

"Ah…" Arthur stuttered, unable to think of a way to greet the American who stood in the doorway to his apartment, absolutely drenched from the pouring rain.

"Um… Hi…" Alfred muttered, as Arthur stepped aside to invite him in, "Before you ask, when Ludwig went rouge, he had the keys to our apartment… They couldn't cut me a pair because I couldn't prove ownership, Gilbert wasn't answering his phone—"

"How did you find me?" Arthur asked.

"I called the office and Yao gave it to me, I got a cab…" Alfred explained, "All of my shit's in that apartment, and until Ludwig comes to his senses, I can't get in. I hate to bother you; I just need a couch…" Arthur looked at his small couch, and struggled to imagine how Alfred would manage to fall asleep on it.

"I see…" Arthur sighed before he pointed to the hallway, "I won't stop you… you should have a shower and I'll get you some blankets. The bathroom is the first door to the left."

Arthur could hear the shower running as he walked past the door to the bathroom, carrying some spare blankets and a pillow. He dreaded what was happening, however he couldn't deny that this could be a sign to finally address their issues, however, Arthur knew that he shouldn't do it right away, they've had a busy night and it is a late hour… but yet, he dreaded the idea of saving it for the morning.

"Goodnight…" Alfred muttered as he rubbed the towel into his hair as he walked past Arthur and towards the couch, "thanks for this, I really need it."

"It's fine…" Arthur muttered as he walked down the hallway, and into his bedroom, well aware that Alfred's eyes were following him.

Arthur tried to sleep, but his ability to relax slipped between his fingers before he could settle, keeping the Englishman painfully awake. He rolled over once again, and froze when he heard his bedroom door open… Arthur's instinct took over, and he pretended to still be asleep as he heard footsteps pace around his bed.

"Arthur…" the voice whispered as the figure crawled onto Arthur's bed, hovering over the Brit's face, "Arthur…"

"Mmn…" Arthur murmured as he opened his eyes, only to see Alfred staring down at him and his face hovered over his. "Alfred…"

 _"Why?"_ Alfred asked, as Arthur lifted his hands, only for Alfred to press them back down, taking away Arthur's ability to fight him, Arthur stared into Alfred's eyes, seeing that they were full of anger and determination: it was a stare that chilled Arthur to the bone. "Did I offend you that much? Did I do something wrong? I thought we…"

"We did…" Arthur answered, finally releasing the tight hold he held over himself, no longer holding himself back, he spoke like he had wanted to ever since he learned that Alfred was in London. "I was scared… I didn't want to say goodbye, because then I knew that I would miss you. I thought that if I just left, we'd save ourselves all of the pain… besides… I knew that Matthew was going to die, but I still left the school… I thought that you were going to hate me anyway…"

"I don't hate you; I know why you did it. Ludwig told me everything…" Alfred explained as he relaxed his grip on Arthur's wrists, before shifting to hold onto his hands as he laid over him. "I honestly thought that you hated me… After that night where we nearly…"

"No… I don't hate you…" Arthur sighed. Alfred's eyes widened as Arthur's lips curved into a shy smile, "quite the opposite, actually."

Alfred smiled his eyes glowing from the moonlight that came in through the gap in the curtains, "well… I guess you didn't have to say goodbye after all…"  
Before Arthur could reply Alfred cut him off with a kiss, Arthur's eyes widened as he felt the Americans warm lips press against his, their softness waking Arthur's heart and senses.  
However, Arthur was left hanging when Alfred lifted his head, parting their lips. "Is this ok…?"

Arthur no longer cared about anything, once he got a taste of those lips, he needed more. Without a word, Arthur pushed his hands out of Alfred's grip, and hooked his arms around Alfred's neck, pulling him in tighter. Arthur had given in; the relief of finally letting his guard down opened his heart to Alfred as he felt the American slide under the blankets and hold him tightly. It had been a long time since he had intimacy with someone; and it was as though Arthur was experiencing everything again for the first time.  
Before he knew it, he was panting and begging, running his fingernails down the soft skin of Alfred's back, as their pants and groans, as well as the violent banging of the headboard of the bed on the wall echoed through the bedroom. Alfred released a heavy sigh, exhausted as he held on tightly to Arthur, until his noises were cut off by another heavy kiss. Arthur couldn't help but smile, and as he did, he realised that it was genuine, that he was finally doing the right thing, and he no longer wanted to think about the consequences. In that moment, Arthur had forgiven himself, he forgave himself for leaving, he forgave himself for being scared, he felt as though he could be free from the chains of his own heart and finally open it wide enough to let someone else in… and he never wanted to let that feeling go…


	4. Chapter 4

The door to Arthur's car shut with a _thud_ as the American began to put on his seatbelt, with that wide smile still branding his face, "so…" Arthur tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he drove out of his parking spot and onto the sleepy London street, assuming that he knew what Alfred was going to bring up. "Last night..."

"It wasn't bad," Arthur pointed out.  
Arthur couldn't deny that he had a wonderful time that night; however he could no longer ignore the worry and anxiety that lingered behind him. They were attached now; tied together by their heartstrings. He let that night of magic happen before he could think logically and ask: what's going to happen when Alfred has to leave?

"Mm…" Alfred chuckled as he crossed his legs together, "I know what you're thinking, and yes; I'm worried too… as soon as we find Feli, I'm gonna have to go back to DC… but we can try and work something out, if you'd like…"

Arthur frowned and internally argued with himself: the logical thing to do would be to wish Alfred luck with his life and let him go, however, he was determined to change: he wasn't going to say goodbye so quickly, "I'm not going to give up."

Arthur heard Alfred sigh with relief before tilting his head to look out the window, "you were right about London; it's so cool! You should show me around after we find Feliciano."

Arthur couldn't help but smile as he glanced over at Alfred, watching the American gaze at every aspect of the street, watching as the car travelled further and further towards the city centre, where it truly came alive with activity and light, despite the barely present sun.

Eventually the agents strutted into the office, the agents felt confident and ready; determined to solve the crime and save the day, as they knew that no challenge was too great. That was until their demeanour shattered under Gilbert's harsh stare, his eyes striking down their confidence and leaving dread in its place. Something was wrong.

"We got another package…" Gilbert sighed, before motioning Alfred and Arthur to follow him to his desk.  
Yao was standing behind Yao's chair, with his widened eyes fixated on the laptop screen with his hand over his mouth, as though he was shocked by what he had seen.

"What happened to him?" Alfred asked, the pain unintentionally breaking his voice.

"This also came with the video…" Yao muttered before he lifted his arm towards Alfred and Arthur, showing them a small piece of paper, not once breaking his stare with the laptop screen. Arthur took the paper and showed it to himself and Alfred.

It was a photo, an old one, taken with an old fashioned camera, judging by the quality and age of the photo, Arthur deducted that it must have been from a disposable camera, or at least an older model. The photo showed three figures sitting together in what looked like a large living room, with two sharing a large chair, and the other figure taking the couch. Two of the figures were adult men, whilst the third was a young child, possibly four or five.

Immediately Arthur shuddered when he registered who the faces of the adults belonged to, "Francis…" Arthur gasped as he looked at the blonde adult man; he was younger than Arthur remembered: reinforcing Arthur's ideas about the age of the photo. Francis was looking at the young child who sat in his lap, smiling as though that child was his entire world. His long and soft blonde hair bordered the Frenchman's soft face and subtle beard, and his eyes were a deep blue and narrow with content.

"Matt…" Alfred gasped as he pointed to the child who sat on Francis' lap. The young child was nearly a carbon-copy of his father; they had the same hair and the same smile. Matthew's smile was wide and his eyes were shut, as though he was laughing, revealing a set of tiny teeth. Alfred was stunned by how young Matthew was in that photo, and how much his father obviously loved him, despite the tragedy that befell them.

"Ivan…" Arthur added, referring to the third man in the photo, it was indeed Ivan who was sitting on the couch across from where Francis and Matthew sat. Ivan's arm was relaxing over the back of the couch, and his legs were crossed, as though the trio were in the middle of a discussion before the cameraman had appeared. Ivan was staring at a person behind the camera, smiling humbly, a look that shook Alfred and Arthur to their very core: these people were not the villains that they hated; in this picture they were peaceful and friendly... They couldn't cope with the image of the friend kidnapping the son, father dying at the hands of his friend to save his son or the son sacrificing himself not long afterwards… All three of the people in those pictures had dark pasts, and it was odd to see them in such a normal situation.

Arthur turned over the photo to check for anything on the back, his curiosity had paid off, as it revealed writing on the back of the photograph.  
"Ivan and … blank... visiting Francis, Joan and Mathieu…" Arthur read.

"We have reason to believe that whoever took this photo and scribbled out that name, is the one who kidnapped Feliciano," Gilbert explained as he turned the laptop to face Alfred and Arthur, revealing a dark screen with a simply play button in the centre. "This is some sick way to get revenge."

Alfred and Arthur watched silently as Gilbert clicked on the play button, and the video began to play as everyone watched in silence. At first the screen was black, before the camera slowly began to focus on the figure before the camera after the light turned on, illuminating the screen. It was Feliciano, his eyes were wide, and Alfred and Arthur were relieved to see that he didn't appear to be physically hurt, his skin was fine and he wasn't bleeding, in the facial area, at least. The only change was the noticeable bags under his eyes, a noticeable sign of sleep deprivation.

 _It has been three weeks since our last video; we are now ready to reveal our plans. How dare you take our friend away from us. We will fulfil his wish and bring the western world to its knees. The bomb in DC was not the only thing he was working on, he had plans for London as well. We wish to introduce the greatest invention he had every created, of which we perfected in his memory. I.V.A.N._ The red text wrote along the bottom of the screen, whilst a figure stepped behind Feliciano, dragging something behind her.  
It was obvious from the feminine shape that the figure was a woman, she wore an entirely black fitted leather suit, like a motorcycle suit… Upon her head was a black motorcycle helmet, with the pink flower painted on the side.  
Arthur shivered at the sight of gas bottles lining along the table, attached to one of these gas bottles was a gas mask. The figure lifted Feliciano's head and he spoke, staring desperately into the camera however the video had been muted so no sound came out, it was obvious that he was tied to a chair, as he was unable to fight back. She pulled the gas mask over Feliciano's face as the Italian began to panic.

 _I.V.A.N is a chemical wonder in the form of a gas, and now, Agent Vagaras is going to show you exactly what you're up against._

Feliciano's eyes widened with fear as the nozzle was turned, and his gas mask filled with a thick gas, forcing him to breathe it in.

Arthur felt Alfred grab his hand and grasp it tightly, struggling to keep himself composed.

Suddenly the video began to speed up time, and a timer appeared in the bottom corner of the screen, showing how much time had passed. Feliciano was rocking back and forward as he continued to breath in the gas, until the footage ended at 20:00, revealing that Feliciano had suffered through twenty minutes of exposure.

The woman in black returned and removed the mask, Feliciano was so dazed and terrified, he barely registered the movement around him. His eyes darted around the room as though it was filled with terrifying monsters he was speaking frantically.

 _After twenty minutes, he has been exposed more than enough to suffer the consequences. I.V.A.N is a hallucinogen, so he will be seeing things that are not there… that's not the worst thing that this gas can do._

The time-lapse continued and everyone watched as Feliciano's condition worsened throughout time, suddenly the time stopped and the noise returned as Feliciano released a terrified scream, staring at the camera as though it were about to eat him. He was panicked and moving frantically in his chair, his condition deteriorating.  
As the time-lapse resumed he continued to rock and scream frantically, like an animal in a cage, until the time-lapse stopped again when the clock revealed 1:00:00. He had been like this for one hour. The Italian lunged forward and a wrenching sound filled the speakers, slowly Feliciano lifted his head, revealing a river of blood that ran down his chin.

 _An unexpected perk…_

Feliciano had become so tired, he could barely keep on screaming, but the hallucinations would not calm down, if anything, they became worse, to the point where Feliciano was screaming and cursing in Italian: too fast and frantic for any translator to ever interpret.

 _Four bombs loaded with I.V.A.N have been placed throughout London, and if MI6 does not cease all action, these bombs will go off, and all of London will go down in a cloud of poisonous smoke._

 _Think fast, Agents…_


	5. Chapter 5

"No way…" Alfred gasped with shock.

"I already have a bomb squad waiting; this is a threat of chemical warfare. This is much more than just a kidnapping, they want to hold the entire city hostage." Gilbert explained.

"They want MI6 to stop…" Yao pointed out.

"We can't just _stop,"_ Gilbert hissed, "it's impossible. Besides, even if I could… _We do not bow to terrorists."_

Yao frowned, "But, the bombs—"

"We will find them!" Gilbert hissed, "We will find Feliciano and we will find the bombs!"

"I'm not sure if everyone who has seen the video feels the same way, they put it online!" Yao replied, "It's just passed a thousand views and growing, it will be viral within days!"

"Then make sure that video is taken down before it is!" Gilbert snapped. "I'll send a request to manufacturing, and make sure that gas masks are handed out to all appropriate staff, just in case."

"Have you heard from Ludwig?" Alfred asked.

"No, not yet…" Gilbert sighed, hanging his head, "He spotted Berwald and Tino and lost them, I have agents on the lockout though, he will make himself known when he wants to. I think he just wants to beat up a few people and vent out his anger. I really doubt he will—"  
Suddenly Gilbert froze, before pulling his phone out of his pocket, and frowning, before quickly answering, "Beilschmidt."

"While he's busy, we should get started," Arthur explained as he took Alfred by the sleeve and led him away from the desk, "we need to find a reason as to why it was Feliciano who was taken. And I think you can help."

"Ludwig would be able to tell you more," Alfred pointed out sadly as Arthur opened his office door, and encouraged Alfred to sit on the seat before his desk. "You have your own office? Shit."

Arthur chuckled at Alfred's surprise, "I've been here as long as Gilbert, of course I have an office as well. Now." Arthur promptly sat in his chair opposite Alfred and crossed his fingers over his lap, "Tell me exactly what you believe to be Feliciano's job at the CIA."

"At first I thought that he was Ludwig's assistant, he'd follow things up for him, perform jobs and even get coffee for him. But then I learned that it was him just being nice. He … I don't know what he is… He has the experience of a field agent, you know; he has an arrest count in the thousands, can you imagine that little guy taking down a beefy criminal? Cause I've seen the photos of it! As well as that, he has the knowledge of a manager, he can interrogate like a pro and I learned that he was one of the figures who organised for Matt to join the reformation program and overseeing his acceptance into the CIA. In fact think he's the one who organised for you to come to Washington when Matt went missing…"

"Yes..." Arthur frowned, remembering how he had first met the Italian at his brother's funeral, and was offered the job of finding Matthew, one of the few missions that had changed his life. "He was the one who contacted me. Could he really have the power to organise such a thing?"

"It wouldn't surprise me. Since he can establish priority contact with MI6; he's obviously respected here and back home. He's been with the CIA longer than either Ludwig or I … God only knows how much power he has within the CIA … Or what he knows."

The interview lasted for nearly an hour, and Alfred had recounted nearly all of the things he knew about Feliciano's job, but yet, it still felt as though Arthur's report was ineffective. They were missing someone… They both knew that Ludwig would be able to clear up the confusion; however, they knew that they had to keep doing their best.

However, the next day felt as though it would be far more eventful, since Alfred still could not get into his apartment, he spent another night at Arthur's, this time Arthur didn't even bother to set up the couch for Alfred, for he knew that the American wasn't going to be sleeping there. As soon as the elevators doors closed behind them, Gilbert handed them two portable gas masks, and warned them that if the threat of I.V.A.N is real, then they should all be ready. Gilbert's explanation was interrupted, when he received a phone call.

"It's Ludwig!" Gilbert hissed, "That idiot has actually found something!"

"What's going on?" Arthur snapped as he and Alfred promptly followed Gilbert out of the offices, however, as the elevator doors opened, the agents were shocked to see someone already standing in them.  
The man was short and had physical resemblance to Feliciano; however his hair was a darker shade of brown and his eyes were green and narrower from a resting frown.

"L-Lovino!" Gilbert stuttered, "You weren't due to arrive for another week!"

"I came early; this is my little brother we're talking about!" Lovino hissed.

"Well, I'm afraid we won't have much for you to do until we find him, we don't need a lawyer right now…" Gilbert explained as he led Alfred and Arthur into the elevator.

"Hang on, you're Feli's brother right, the lawyer?" Alfred asked.

"Yes, Lovino Vargas," Lovino replied, "it's nice to hear that fratello speaks about me."

"Why are you here?" Arthur asked.

"He's here to prosecute the people who kidnapped Feli, but he's _early,"_ Gilbert grumbled.

"I am going to help as much as I can," Lovino hissed, "where are you going now?"

"Well, I guess I'm not going to get rid of you, am I?" Gilbert sighed, "I'm not going to babysit you, so you may as well make yourself useful. I got a call from some agents, they've found Ludwig and apparently he's chasing someone."

"Why the hell are you looking for him?!" Lovino hissed.

"It's a long story," Arthur sighed as the elevator doors opened.

"Oh my god…" Gilbert gasped as he stared down at his phone, "We need to get to Southbank, NOW!"

The car-ride to Southbank was spent explaining to Lovino the situation thus far, of course Gilbert was sensitive with the amount of information he gave about the case itself, and refused to disclose anything, despite how much Lovino threatened to smack him across the head. Gilbert wouldn't be able to handle the guilt of telling Lovino that his little brother had been poisoned by gas and screamed for hours whilst being filmed…

Gilbert, Alfred and Arthur managed to withhold that information from Lovino long enough for Gilbert to drive to Southbank, an area that stretched across the River Thames. Alfred couldn't help but gasp with excitement when he realised that he could see the tip of the London Eye peaking from behind one of the buildings.  
However, his excitement turned to dread when Alfred couldn't help but notice the extreme of police vehicles around a corner café…

"It seems that we don't have to look very far…" Arthur sighed as he stepped out of the car after Gilbert parked across the road, Arthur noticed a familiar black motorcycle parked by the café, it had belonged in the MI6 carpark, and upon further inspection, Arthur realised that the keys were still in the ignition, and they were the same keys that Ludwig had taken from the MI6 office when he first left.

"Gilbert!" A voice cried as a short blonde man in a black suit jogged across the road, breaking from the crowd of police officers and cars.

"Tino!" Gilbert replied as the young man stood before the group, "what the hell is going on?"

"Ludwig was chasing down a woman on motorcycle, and then she went into the café here, Ludwig followed her and tried to talk to her and she attacked him, now the police are here and there's a hostage!" Tino frantically explained, astonished by the events, "Berwald tried to handle the situation, he's still in there! And Ludwig has a gun!"

"How the hell did he get a gun?!" Arthur asked.

"Um…" Alfred muttered as he scratched his head, avoiding everyone's glares. "We may or may not have pulled a couple of strings with the immigration office and got our guns back…"

Arthur frowned, seeing that there was something else that Alfred wasn't telling him, "Don't tell me you—"

"Yeah, I have mine on me right now…" Alfred whispered, "What? We may need it!"

"We'll discuss this later," Gilbert pointed out, "there is a hostage in that café with a suspected kidnapper and terrorist, guns are the least of our problems- Hang on! Ludwig hasn't seen the video, how does he know that she's a kidnapper?"

"The video is online, remember?" Arthur pointed out.

 _"What video?!"_ Lovino hissed.

"Never mind that!" Gilbert snapped before following Tino across the road towards the café, making room for Alfred and Arthur to pass the group of officers. Peering through the café windows, Arthur could see the scene unfolding before them, the tables and chairs within the café were overturned from the panic and three figures could be seen within the café. Ludwig was immediately recognisable, and the man who stood beside him was another tall blonde, Arthur knew that he must have been Berwald. As they drew closer, Arthur came to see the a black figure towards the back of the café, he immediately recognised the black motorcycle helmet with the pink flower on the side, Arthur also could help but notice the figure who stood before the woman and was being held back into her, a young child.

"She has a child hostage…" Gilbert explained before looking to Alfred and Arthur, "you two sneak in through the back, I'll try to get in and join Ludwig and Berwald in there."

Alfred and Arthur nodded as they ran towards the back of the building, leaving Gilbert to ponder his options; Gilbert looked to an officer, recognising him as an officer he has had a lot of experience with: something of a friend.

"Sadiq!" Gilbert chuckled, catching the officer attention, the Turkish officer turned to look at Gilbert from behind his police car, smiling when he recognised Gilbert.

"How did I know you'd be involved in this, Beilschmidt?!" Sadiq chuckled as he tapped the German on the shoulder.

"My little brother is in there, that's why!" Gilbert replied, "The big blonde."

"Which one?" Sadiq asked.

"Never mind, what's the situation?"

"The hostage is a young boy, still unidentified, two men are in there trying to free him, and so I suppose they must be agents, no?" Gilbert nodded at Sadiq's assumption before the Turk continued. "If anyone in uniform comes close; the situation tenses and even the agents won't let us in."

"They'll let me in…" Gilbert pointed out, "get me in there."

"But—"

Gilbert stepped forward and marched towards the door, determined to get in, Sadiq stopped anyone who tried to get in Gilberts way. Gilbert opened the door to the café, catching everyone's attention.

"We saw your video!" Gilbert announced as he moved to stand beside Ludwig and Berwald, Gilbert tried to hide his anger when he saw Ludwig holding his gun. But the trio stared forward at the woman in the black motorcycle helmet, holding a small blonde child by the shoulder and holding a knife to his neck, using him as a hostage. "Let the kid go and we can discuss this like adults, if you're not a coward!"  
Instead of reacting through words the kidnapper simply tightened her grip on the child.  
"You don't need to hurt the kid, he has nothing to do with this, and it's only going to make things worse for you…"

"She doesn't speak back…" Ludwig muttered, "We've tried negotiations, she doesn't respond."

Gilbert tried to hide his smile when he saw the door to the kitchen open silently and Alfred and Arthur crawl out and hide behind the counter, a couple of metres behind the kidnapper, the agents assumed their position and stared at the kidnapper, judging how quick they'd have to be to save the child.

Suddenly, before Gilbert could think, Alfred ran out of his hiding spot, and grabbed a chair, before smacking it over the kidnappers head, forcing her to let go of the child. Quickly Berwald jumped into action along with the other agents, but instead of attacking the kidnapper, he scooped the screaming child into his arms and ran out of the café; he had done his job. Whereas the other agents still had more work to do.

They attacked the kidnapper quickly, attempting to grab her and hold her still; however with a punch to Ludwig's face, she managed to break out, until Gilbert held his leg out and forced her to trip, before Arthur jumped onto her back, effectively ending the struggle. Promptly, she was placed in handcuffs and escorted outside, where the agents were greeted by the police; Arthur was relieved to see the little media attention that the siege had attracted, as he knew that media attention would be terrible for MI6 at this time.

"See! She's the woman from the video!" Ludwig explained before placing his hands at the base of the woman's black motorcycle helmet, "Now let's see who you are…"

However, before Ludwig could lift the helmet, the buzzing roar of a motor rung through everyone's ears as a motorcyclist rode onto the footpath, ramming their way through the surrounding police, unafraid to nearly run people over as he quickly rode towards Ludwig and Gilbert: the ones who were holding the kidnapper. Upon this sight, the kidnapper quickly pulled herself out Ludwig's grasp by kicking him in the stomach, before turning around and smashing her handcuffed firsts into Gilberts head, knocking him down as the motorcyclist stopped before her.

 _"Don't let them get away!"_ Arthur cried as he and Alfred attempted to leap into action with the officers, however the motorcyclist sped off with the kidnapper sitting behind him.  
Arthur knew that he had to act, and _now._ Immediately his eyes wandered to the black motorcycle, and realised that its keys were still in the ignition, Arthur pulled on Alfred's arm and pulled the American towards the bike. "Alfred, come with me!"

"RIGHT!" Alfred replied as he jumped on the bike, sitting behind Arthur, before Arthur immediately drove of; praying to god that his minimal driving experience would be enough to prevent him from crashing.

Luckily for him, Arthur knew the city of London like the back of his hand, he knew where nearly every turn lead, and knew exactly where to go when he watched the kidnappers ride through an alleyway.

"Aren't you glad I brought this?!" Alfred cried as he took out his gun with one hand and keeping his other hand hooked around Arthur.

"Keep your eyes on them!" Arthur cried as he swerved passed driving cars, following the kidnappers as they zoomed down the road.

Alfred focussed on the kidnappers, hearing the noise of blaring police sirens gather behind them. Whenever Alfred saw a chance to shoot out the kidnappers tyres, they either turned into another street, or hid behind another car. It was irritating him.  
However, the irritation melted away when Arthur followed the kidnappers onto Westminster Bridge, getting a magnificent view of Big Ben. However, he couldn't stare for too long, as Arthur sped up enough to get close to the kidnappers, Alfred was ready to take his shot, lifting his gun and establishing his aim; remembering the countless hours he had spent within the shooting ranges. But suddenly, Arthur was forced to take a sharp turn to avoid a car as he turned around King's square, dashing past Elizabeth Tower, and turning before crashing into a car in front of Westminster Abbey. Eventually Arthur had followed the Kidnappers around King's square, before they led Arthur back onto Westminster Bridge, leading them back towards the London aquarium and London Eye.

What they didn't expect to see, was the kidnappers swerve onto the footpath, before driving down the set of stairs that lead to the walkway beside the river Thames.

"Oh god…" Arthur choked as the turn came up, and he had to make the choice of whether to follow them down, or find another way: where they risked letting the kidnappers get away.

"You can do it," Alfred pointed out, holding on tightly to Arthur, as though bracing for the bumpy journey.

Following Alfred's advice, Arthur took the turn and held his breath as the motorcycle bumped down the stairs, barely making it to the bottom of the walkway. When the road was smooth, Arthur sped up, desperate to catch up the kidnappers. Multiple people jumped out of the way, or Arthur nearly risked falling over to avoid hitting them, he swerved past mothers with prams, old people, groups of teenagers, and even and entire family jumped out of the way.  
The names that Arthur was called as he drove past them made Arthur wish that the bike had a siren on it.  
Arthur took whatever chance he could to speed up, however the kidnappers did not care about the public as much as he did, therefore they were unafraid to go incredibly fast, however, they were not far enough for Alfred to not attempt to take aim. Despite how hard Alfred tried, he could not bring himself to shoot, the risk was too high, and before he could make a decision, the opportunity had passed.  
Before they knew it, the chase had extended all the way down the walkway; eventually the agents were nearing the Shakespeare Globe Theatre.

Deciding that this had been going on long enough, Alfred raised his gun, determined to take the shot and be unafraid of the consequences of missing. Seeing Alfred raise his gun, Arthur became brave and sped up, effortlessly gliding past groups of people, getting closer to the kidnappers.

"READY?!" Alfred called, giving Arthur warning.

"DO IT!" Arthur snapped.

Alfred waited for the opportunity, seeing it draw closer and closer; driving the American insane… However, Alfred knew that he couldn't waste his next chance.

A gunshot went off… but it wasn't from Alfred.  
Suddenly, Arthur and Alfred fell forward, crashing to the stone ground, gliding across the floors as the bike spun, before smashing against the stone fence. Alfred found himself laying on his back, his vision blurred and pain shooting up his back in waves. Slowly Alfred rose and looked around, a crowd had gathered outside of the globe theatre to see the scene of destruction before him. Alfred turned his head to look at Arthur, to see the Brit struggling to rise, cursing and groaning in pain.

"Arthur…" Alfred gasped as he limped towards Arthur, before falling to his knees before him, the pain in his knees drove the American crazy as he helped Arthur up.

"That's going to bruise… What the hell happened?" Arthur asked.

"I heard a gunshot… someone sniped our bike, I know it…" Alfred hissed as he helped Arthur sit up.

"At least no one was hurt…" Arthur sighed as he rubbed his head.

"We should invest in some helmets, eh?" Alfred chuckled before looking down the walkway, where he could still see the kidnappers riding away… however; they began to slow down… "What the?"

Alfred and Arthur watched as the kidnappers stopped running away, despite the motorbike helmets covering their faces, Alfred and Arthur could feel their stares... something was wrong.

Arthur was the one to ask, "What are they-"

Arthur was interrupted when a loud thunderous boom echoed down Southbank, making the entire ground shake. Alfred and Arthur glanced at each other, recognising the terrifying sensation _of a bomb going off._  
Before they knew it, the Globe Theatre's roof was overflowing with a thick white mist, as though it were a cauldron-prop, with the thick gas spilling out onto the walkway, engulfing everything in its path. More and more bombs went off, moving further down the walk, with devastating effect.

They knew… it was I.V.A.N… 


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur felt the sight take his breath away, as screams echoed from around them, as unaware people panicked at the sight of the enormous gas cloud engulfed the buildings that lined the street and originated from the Shakespearian attraction.  
The image of Feliciano screaming filled the agent's minds, as they remembered what the gas had done to him, after only twenty minutes of exposure. They knew that they needed to act, _now._

Alfred silently thanked god as he remembered the gas masks that Gilbert had issued them earlier this morning, and that they had survived the fall, Alfred took he and Alfred's masks out of his small backpack, and handed one to Arthur.  
Even though the stood mere metres away from the cloud of thick fog-like gas, they could still feel its chemical properties sting their throats.

"Remind me to thank Gilbert…" Arthur muttered as he placed the small clear plastic mask over his mouth and nose, breathing heavily and frowning at the odd taste of the filtered air.

"We've got to work on crowd control, we have twenty minutes before they've been exposed as long as Feli," Alfred explained.

"Those monsters… this is a fucking _family_ attraction, there are _families_ here!" Arthur hissed, "Let's pray that there's not a school excursion going on right now!"

Immediately Alfred and Arthur jumped into action, ushering the crowds away, and reminding people to call the police and get themselves away from the area as the gas expanded, covering the entire area, making it difficult to see past their hands. Arthur watched as Alfred ushered away a mother and a child, before turning around to tell a group of young girls to put their phones away and get out. It was then that Arthur heard screams coming from inside of the globe theatre itself, and he realised that even more people must have been trapped inside of the attraction.

"Alfred, we need to go inside!" Arthur called, noticing the increasing police presence gathering around the area. Arthur reached out and travelled through the gas, before grabbing Alfred's arm, noticing the red and blue lights flashing behind him.

"Do you think the police have gas masks on?!" Alfred asked.

"Shit!" Arthur hissed, "Ok, I'll go speak to the police, get as many people out of the globe as you can! I'll join you soon!"

"Right!" Alfred replied as he and Arthur separated, before he could break into a run Alfred turned around, wanting to tell Arthur something along the lines of 'good luck' or even 'be careful'. However, the Brit had disappeared into the foggy gas. Alfred turned back around and ran into the globe theatre, passing some people who had managed to escape. As soon as he stepped through the doors, he could hear people wheezing and panicking as they breathed in the gas, Alfred was shocked at the state of them, as they hadn't even been exposed for more than five minutes. Alfred knew that he had fifteen minutes left to get these people out, otherwise they'd end up as bad as Feliciano. It took Alfred a couple of minutes to hook people's arms over his shoulders, and lead them out of the gift shop and café area. As soon as he'd guide someone past the front doors, he'd give them a tap on the shoulder and tell them to run to the light and that help is here. He watched as the number of people lessened, the ones who were left's conditions became worse and worse, to the point where Alfred wondered whether the hallucination process had begun, he glanced at his watch and noted: ten minutes of exposure renders hallucinations.  
As he helped the last person out of the gift shop, Alfred couldn't help but think and imagine the pain that Feliciano must have been feeling, as these citizens were visibly terrified and afflicted after only exposure for a couple of minutes.  
Alfred returned to the gift shop and café, searching for anyone who may have been on the floor before moving through the entrance doors to the museum.  
Alfred was amazed by the wonder of the museum, but shocked at the state it was in.

The museum entrance was dark and decorated by red walls and red carpet, the first thing he noticed was a large timeline of Shakespeare's life time and literary works spanning across the entire wall. The gas was floating along the floor and running up the walls like a group of spiders, sending shivers down Alfred's spines. As he walked further down the hall he noticed the collections of Shakespearian artefacts and costumes on display, accompanied by knee-height plaques that Alfred struggled to avoid banging his knee into, he knew that this could come to be a hazard in his situation.

Alfred shivered when the noise of a child screaming rocketed through the exhibit, the noise forced Alfred to break into a run, flipping a switch in the American's compassionate heart.

"HOLD ON!" Alfred screamed as he ran down the angular hallway, before reaching a set of polished wooden steps, the child's screams echoed from the large stage area of the exhibit, where the area was decorated as mock-forest based on Midsummer Night's Dream, with paper vines and flowers hanging from the light, and nature themed seating before a small stage. "HANG ON! HELP IS COMING!"

Alfred ran around the area, noticing figures running in the gas around him, however, right now Alfred's priorities laid with trying to find the child that screamed. As if timed, everyone in the room began to scream as the hallucinations settled in. Alfred looked at his watch and felt his heart drop as he noticed that it had nearly been twenty minutes. Finally, he noticed something on the floor before him, a small figure was curled into a ball at his feet, and was so small: the American would have stepped on them. Alfred bent down and looked closer, realising that it was a child, it was then that Arthur's voice chimed through his head…

 _'This is a family attraction'_

Alfred finally realised what this meant, this child may be one of many, perhaps not even the youngest in the attraction, and he hadn't checked the actual Globe Theatre yet; he could only imagine how many families would be there. Alfred looked down at the child and analysed them, he assumed that she was a girl, seeing as how she was dressed in pink, and there was a matching pink bow in her brown hair. Her amber eyes were wide and her teeth chattered with fear. Alfred felt her arms tense as he patted her, before scoping her into his arms, he made sure to cover her face with his jacket, giving her something to breathe into.

"EVERYONE WHO CAN HEAR ME! FOLLOW MY VOICE! COME HERE!" Alfred screamed so loudly, his lungs begun to hurt, he could hear people moving around him and he knew he had caught their attention. However… it was obvious that the ones whose hallucinations had made them scream were too far from saving, Alfred would have to come back for them. Quickly, he began to run up the polished stairs, careful to not trip and fall.

Alfred ran quickly through the exhibit, feeling the exercise make him fight to breathe the filtered air through the gas mask. He realised that by now, the twenty minute mark must have passed: and everyone who was left in the theatre was in a dangerous situation. Alfred had run too fast, and hadn't noticed the knee-height plaque, as it sent the American and the child tumbling to the floor. Alfred gasped when he felt the elastic strap that held his mask to his face snapped as his face rubbed the floor. "SHIT!"

Despite this, Alfred didn't want to stop, he could hear people in the hallway, and those who were still rational enough to hear him needed him more than he needed that mask.

"THIS WAY!" Alfred called as he rose from the floor, picking up the child again, "FOLLOW MY VOICE! YOU'RE NEARLY OUT!"  
Alfred couldn't fight his burning lungs anymore, and took in a breath, feeling the chilling and bitter chemicals sting his throat and lungs.  
Suddenly he could see the light of day, as the gas had begun to clear out of the café and gift shop. Alfred fell to his knees and he let the child out of his hands, and pointed towards the door.  
 _"There…"_  
The child was waddled out of Alfred's arms, before running towards the door, leading the adults that followed her.

Alfred would have left too, however, he knew that there were people still in there, and he wasn't going to stop until he had done everything physically possible to help them.  
He mentally noted that his countdown had begun, until he put his mask on, he was in just as much danger as the people within the theatre.

Alfred ran back into the hallway, pressing the collar of his shirt over his mouth and nose, using it as a temporary mask. His eyes scanned the foggy floor as he searched for his mask, still hearing the screams echo from the theatre bellow, and he dreaded the fact that he hadn't even made it to the outdoor theatre yet. Alfred held back his gasp as he fell to his knees and picked up the cracked gas mask in his hands, Alfred cursed as he threw it to the ground, his heart filling with dread.

Alfred was now faced with a dilemma, he knew that if he ran now, he would forever regret leaving those people behind… if he could get just one more person, he would have saved just one more person…  
Alfred then decided that he would do one more run to the mock forest, and grab as many people as he could before escaping himself, it would be worth it in the long run, and he won't be exposed to I.V.A.N for long enough to do any damage.

As he ran towards the stairs, Alfred was careful to time his breathing, and only breathe when it was absolutely necessary, and this took a toll on Alfred's head, making it ache and pound in pain. Despite how hard Alfred tried to remain focussed, the pain in his head and the gas in his lungs disorientated him, however the screams from the area below drove him to continue, he couldn't give up, not now. Alfred struggled to stand and he leant on the wall before the stair case, however, he took one lazy step forward and sent himself tumbling down the wide staircase, rolling and tumbling as he knocked his head multiple times on the polished wood. Alfred's eyes blurred from the impact and stung from the chemicals, as he struggled to rise from the floor, he couldn't see his hands on the floor through the thick blanket of gas. Alfred covered his mouth with his hand after he took a deep breath, terrified of the risk he was taking. Alfred rose to his wobbly knees, feeling the gas begin to take its toll of Alfred's body as he searched for people who had been trapped in the gas for half an hour now. All that he could think about was the horror that Feliciano went through, and became terrified of the idea of others, even himself, suffering through it too.

Alfred didn't know whether the figures running through the fog were others or products of his imagination. Alfred began to panic as he dreaded the idea of regretting his choice. He is supposed to be a hero, not a victim… He is supposed to be helping people escape this horror and not become trapped in it himself. Thoughts of self-doubt and pain echoed through his head. He writhed in his failures, the thoughts emotionally crumbling him and hindering his search for survivors. What the hell was he thinking? Thinking that he could redeem himself after letting Matthew die… He wasn't a hero, he wasn't worthy of anything, and the weight of these thoughts began to crumble him.

Alfred panicked when he realised that his nightmare was beginning, he had made a mistake… he shouldn't have come back, he should have been satisfied with the work he had done, he could have helped more if he had returned to Arthur. But now all he could do was regret his decision as he delved into a world of nightmares that not even Shakespeare could create…


	7. Chapter 7

Alfred gasped and shuddered as he felt the poison run through his bloodstream, he stumbled around in the fog, desperate to find the stairs, however the pain in his head disorientated him. Alfred felt himself become paranoid, despite how hard he tried to remind himself to remain sane.

Alfred jumped back and squeaked when a dark figure dashed past him in the smoke, and Alfred couldn't tell whether it was another victim of the fog, or a figment of his imagination. Alfred felt the panic set in as he gritted his teeth and gripped his hair, terrified of what nightmare awaited him. He ran around the exhibit, desperate to find a way out, forgetting about the importance of timing his breath and so as he ran, he only breathed in more and more of the gas.  
Alfred's knees fell weak and forced to the American to the floor, he coughed loudly as the bitter and sour taste of the gas stung his throat and lungs.

"Arthur…" Alfred wheezed, desperate to hear the Brit coming to save him, he needed a real hero now. Alfred felt himself begin to crumble as he fell into an emotional pit of despair and self-loathing. How dare he call himself agent hero, he wasn't worthy of that title at all, all he did was mess up and cause pain for everyone else.  
Alfred began to crawl, desperate to find the staircase. He knew he couldn't have been exposed to the gas for more than ten minutes, he was nearing the dangerous level of exposure and he knew it.

He heard loud noises come from behind him, and Alfred knew that if he looked up, he was going to see something terrible.

 _Remain sane,_ he thought as he continued to crawl, _remain sane… nothing can hurt you…_

However, he could not fight his curiosity, and turned around, Alfred gasped at the sight of a crowd of dark figures surround him, staring down at him like he was an animal at the zoo. Alfred turned to his back and shuffled backwards, too afraid to break eye contact with the figures, who only stepped forward to keep in time with the petrified American.

"Back off!" Alfred hissed, "You're not real!"  
Despite how much he reminded himself of his situation, he still became terrified of the figures who stood before him.

They were faceless and black, barely holding a humanoid shape. Instead of stepping forward to keep up with Alfred, the American would simply blink and the figures would be closer, shocking him after every time he blinked; driving him insane with fear.  
Suddenly, the figures all flashed identical smiles that were unnaturally large and flashed razor sharp teeth.

"I SAID BACK OFF!" Alfred snapped as he blinked and saw the figures on their knees before him, Alfred kicked, only to scream at the sensation of them touching his legs as he frantically kicked as he laid trapped on his back, exposed like a turned-over turtle. He found himself no longer able to rationalise between what was real and what was not, to him, the nightmare was really happening to him.  
 _"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!"_

Alfred held his head and screamed as he felt their cold and sharp hands tickle all over him, whispering about him as though he were an experiment. He found himself unable to think about anything other than the crippling fear that consumed him, feeling his ability to rationalise run through his fingers and out of his grasp like sand. He couldn't understand what they were whispering about, nor did he want to find out, but the noise of it was driving Alfred crazy, as their voices to him sounded like nails running along a chalk board.  
 _"STOP IT!"_ Alfred screamed, _"STOP IT! YOU'RE NOT FUCKING REAL!"_

Alfred suddenly found the strength to get up and run, not wanting to look behind at the monsters who followed him. As he ran through the area, he passed multiple other figures in the fog, not caring to find out whether they were real or only more figures of his nightmare.

Alfred struggled to keep reminding himself that it wasn't real and that it was only going to get worse as he stayed longer. Alfred fell flat on his face onto the polished wood of the staircase, and as he struggled to crawl up the stairs, he could feel the monsters gripping at his legs, trying to pull him back down.  
Alfred knew that he had to stay strong as he could feel the presence of the gas become weaker as he climbed up the stairs, and he could hear voices coming from the exhibit hallway.

 _"ALFRED!"_ A familiar voice yelled.  
It was him, Alfred gasped; realising that it was Arthur. It was with that, that Alfred finally used all of the strength that his numbed legs could muster, and kicked backward and crawled up the stairs. Despite the tugging feeling still holding him back, Alfred still made it up the stairs and used the walls to help him back to his feet.

"Arthur…" Alfred stuttered as he watched police officers with torches and gas masks run past him, however, it was only Arthur that maintained the power of Alfred's eyes.

"Alfred, you idiot! Where is your mask?!" Alfred gasped as he took Alfred into his arms as the American fell to his knees, taking Arthur down with him.

"Arthur, I can't tell what's real!" Alfred shuddered as he was engulfed by the warmth of Arthur's arms. Arthur took in a deep breath of filtered air, before taking off his gas mask and placing the plastic mask over Alfred's nose and mouth, encouraging the American to breathe in the filtered air weakly.

"You fucking idiot, come on; get up and get out!" Arthur growled, not taking any of Alfred's shit and forcing the American to rise to his feet. Hook Alfred's arm under his shoulder, Arthur led Alfred out.

"I'm sorry…" Alfred mumbled as Arthur led him through the hallway. Where the gas was noticeably weaker, he heard Arthur gasp as they passed some of the pieces and displays. "Arthur, you need this."

"You need it more, you loon," Arthur grumbled, visibly angry by Alfred's choice, "I can't fucking believe you did that! What the fuck made you stay in there without your mask?!"

Alfred's eyes dimmed as his memories returned to him, "There were kids down there…"

Arthur froze as he led Arthur out of the Globe Theatre, shocked by Alfred's admission; Arthur continued to lead Alfred towards the closest ambulance that was attending the scene, catching the attention of a paramedic.

"How long were you in there?" Arthur asked.

"I dunno, probably ten minutes…" Alfred answered as Arthur handed Alfred towards the paramedic, who gestured for Alfred to sit in the back entrance to the ambulance van.

"Please just check on him quickly, he's with MI6," Arthur explained to the paramedic, making sure that Alfred would become a priority patient.

"Minimum exposure…" the paramedic explained as he looked into Alfred's eyes, "pupils constricted… you must feel very afraid right now, can you see me clearly?"

"Yes," Alfred replied as the paramedic flashed a small light into Alfred's eyes, checking if they responded normally and dilated as a response to light.

"Ok, can you breathe normally?" The paramedic asked.

"It still hurts, the gas is strong, and bitter," Alfred replied.

"Hmm…" The paramedic murmured as he pressed his stethoscope to Alfred's chest, "rapid and shallow, weak pulse, dizziness: you're in shock."

"Yeah… I can feel it. I hallucinated while I was in there," Alfred pointed out. "I'm dizzy…"

"Then we'll have to give you a blood test." The paramedic explained.

"Will he be ok?" Arthur asked nervously.

"He's not the worse of who's been dragged out of there… others are unconscious or in comas. But since we don't know what the gas does to the body yet, we can't say… We'll need to keep an eye on him, including regular hospital visits. I'd suggest that you do nothing strenuous," the paramedic explained, "it was a bad idea to go in there without a mask."  
Arthur huffed at the doctor's observation, loud enough to catch Alfred's attention.

"Arthur, I couldn't just leave those people in there!" Alfred responded, tilting his head to look at the Brit as he paced impatiently behind the paramedic. "I had to do something! I tried to go back in and get at least one more person!"

Arthur gasped and stared silently as another victim was led out of the globe theatre on a stretcher, screaming in agony and terror, Arthur shuddered as he looked back at Alfred, who was also watching the display.  
 _"That could have been you,"_ Arthur grumbled.

"I can't tell you much else," the paramedic sighed, "he seems fine now, which may be because of the low exposure, but we don't know just what the gas has done to these people. We don't know whether it passes overtime or stays in the bloodstream."

"Will I need to go to hospital?" Alfred asked.

"I say visit and let us give you a blood test, you're not bedbound," Arthur heard the paramedic explain as he began to walk off, intent on finding Gilbert or Ludwig, someone who could help with the situation. He tried not to look back when he heard Alfred calling for him like a lost puppy. Arthur understood why Alfred did what he did, he wanted to be a hero, but the image of seeing him wandering through the gas without a mask on shook him to his very foundations. It made him angry as he passed the paramedics and watched the panic that I.V.A.N had caused, and the panic that has rocketed throughout the city.

Despite the air clearing around the area, the chaos it left behind kept growing stronger.

Gilbert and Ludwig's investment in the case was large, as the physical toll that the case took on the brothers was immensely obvious, they had grey circles under their eyes, they drank more coffee, and they were quieter and became agitated easily. The night at the office after the attack was tense, no matter how many explanations were offered, no one felt as though they were getting any closer to finding Feliciano and his kidnappers, and now so much more was at stake…

"I told you! Alfred and I didn't see the shooter nor the kidnapper's faces!" Arthur hissed at Gilbert, becoming tired of his repetitive question, "We were riding past the globe when our tire was shot. We were _ambushed!"_

"The guy must have been near the entrance, waiting for us," Alfred explained.

"How are you still here, why are you not at the hospital?!" Gilbert asked.

"I'm looking at him, don't worry," Kiku answered.

"Besides, there are people who need it more than me!" Alfred replied, holding back the fact that he was feeling like utter shit.

"Fine then, whatever," Gilbert hissed, before looking to Kiku, "have you started looking at the gas?"

"Yes, but without the patients, I cannot determine what it's going to do to them," Kiku explained, "tests are still being run. All we know now is that the gas is not flammable."

"I have reason to believe that the people behind this worked with Ivan, perhaps even whilst he had Matthew," Arthur pointed out, attempting to disperse the situation.

"But wouldn't have Matthew said something if there were more people involved, and if they were working on a gas bomb too?" Alfred asked.

"Perhaps they didn't tell him, I doubt Francis would have wanted him to be involved something like that. Francis told me that he only agreed to help Ivan because he got him his son back," Arthur replied. "So perhaps if we take a deeper look at those who were around Ivan, perhaps we'd get more answers."

"He does have sisters, however, Ivan has been estranged from them for at least two decades..." Gilbert pointed out, "I'll establish contact, I think they live in Ukraine currently-"

"You should all look at this… The news is on, they're going to talk about what happened." Yao pointed out loudly before everyone gathered around the computer to tune into the weekly news.

"A gas explosion shuts down the Globe Theatre and sends London into panic over a possible terror attack or a catastrophic accident," A woman's voice explained. "We bring you more from Elizabeta Beilschmidt who stands near the scene."

"WHAT?!" Gilbert gasped in shock as he saw his wife standing on the bridge before Southwark Bridge, where the Globe Theatre could be seen from the background. "Why is she on the air?!"

"Who is she?" Alfred asked, only for Gilbert to respond by flashing his wedding ring at the American, "Oh."

"She isn't supposed to be on, it's dangerous!" Gilbert explained as he tightened his hands into fists.

"They'll be watching this, and if they see her name …" Yao pointed out.

"Gilbert… As soon as they figure out who she is, they have found another way to hurt us." Ludwig muttered, staring at the German with wide but blank eyes, "go and get her and take her to the safe house, now."

Within seconds, Gilbert had run out of the office, as the others continued to watch the news.

The woman was pretty and young, with bright green eyes and flowing long tanned hair, despite the tragedy, her aura was calm and poised, a true professional.  
"Witnesses say that before the explosion two motorcyclists were riding along Southbank; starting from Westminster all the way down to Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, some report that gunshots were fired before the event. Currently none of the identities of the cyclists are known and metropolitan police are appealing for anymore witnesses to contact them," The young woman explained, revealing a sweet Hungarian accent.

"And Elizabeta, what is the damage done so far?"

"So far over fifty people have been hospitalised, as well as nearly twenty more have been placed into comas, including multiple families and tourist groups," Elizabeta explained, "the damage to the building itself is untold, the entire area has been closed off following investigation."

"What exactly was it that caused this?"

"Look, it's really unclear as to whether this was an accident or a plotted attack, police are uncertain whether the motorcyclists are connected to the incident or it was just a coincidence," Elizabeta explained.

"Is Gilbert right in assuming that they'd kidnap his wife?" Alfred asked.

"Better safe than sorry," Ludwig sighed, "I don't want him to go through the same thing … if they went for someone close to me then..." Ludwig didn't even finish his sentence before his head fell into his hands. Alfred didn't bother to ask him to finish.

Ludwig was the strongest man that Alfred had ever met, and the fact that he had become so broken over this case disturbed him…and the American knew that it was only going to get worse...


	8. Chapter 8

Despite the harrowing headache that raged within him, Alfred could feel that something was wrong with Arthur. As he had been acting off and defensive and bitter ever since they had left the Globe Theatre, the Englishman seemed reluctant to let Alfred spend another night at his house. Alfred watched the Englishman as he watched the news, watching the story about the Globe Theatre develop: every report was shaky at best: no one from the public was sure of whether it was an attack or an accident, which is what the MI6 wanted.

Alfred felt his heart sink as he watched Arthur's face, unable to tell how he was feeling, was he angry at him?  
The headache in Alfred's head worsened as his anxiety deepened.  
Alfred stared at the floor, seeing Arthur's cat sit on the couch before him, he couldn't help but smile at the small animal and imagined how soft the cat's creamy and patchy fur felt… The animal stared at him like he knew that something was wrong, that he was concerned and worried.

Suddenly, Alfred wheezed with surprise when the cat jumped onto his lamp.

"OH MY GOD, ARTHUR. YOUR CAT." Alfred wheezed, unable to contain how happy he was at receiving the feline's attention.

Despite his attitude, Arthur smiled at the sight of Alfred internally panicking when his little cat pressed her paws into Alfred's lap.  
"Victoria seems to like you…" Arthur muttered.  
And then he remembered how that same cat had supported him after he lost Allistor… When Arthur would spend hours staring at a blank wall, consumed in his thoughts, Victoria would pester him and bring him out of his daze. Even when Arthur began to have a nightmare, Victoria's obnoxious meowing would bring him out of his sleep, only to be coaxed into giving her a sweet pat as he waited out the cold nights.  
It was as though she could sense grief, and would do all she could to make it go away.

"Arthur…" Alfred muttered, bringing Arthur out of his thoughts, "Are you ok?"

Arthur closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, "You scared me today."

"I know, I'm sorry," Alfred replied as he petted Victoria's head, "but… I couldn't just run away, I heard more kids down there, I had to at least try."

"You had to be a hero, and put yourself in the way…" Arthur finished, knowing exactly what Alfred was going to say, "I admire your heroism, but that was stupid! We were handing out masks right outside the door! I was going to come in and save them with you!"

"But I didn't know how far away you were, and I thought I knew the area!" Alfred added.

"You don't know what that gas could have done to you, or what it is going to do to you!" Arthur spat, his eyes reddening with anger, "you could have come out in a stretcher! I saw someone get held down while screaming bloody murder! People came out in comas and are still in them now! That could have happened to you!"  
Alfred found himself speechless, unable to do anything but watch as Arthur's merciless rant continued.  
"Don't do that to me, Alfred! Don't be so foolish! I don't want to lose you too! That gas could be doing something to you! What if it kills you? Gives you cancer or gives you some other ruthless disease that doctors can't combat…"

"Arthur…" Alfred whispered.

"Don't! I don't want to lose you!" Arthur pointed out, "don't do this to me; my PTSD is already bad enough. And I can't imagine what's going on with you too, you can't take risks like that, it is so infuriating!"

"We're both messes…" Alfred pointed out as he let the cat jump off of his lap before he rose off of his seat and walked to Arthur's couch, "but we can help each other, right? We can chase away each other's nightmares and hold each other up when we fall."

"Then don't run into the fucking gas without me and without a mask!" Arthur hissed as Alfred slid beside him, resting his head on Arthur's shoulder.

"I won't…" Alfred agreed.

"You know what else annoys me? You don't see this yourself but, you are a hero… you are, you saved Washington DC, and you're going to save London as well; I know it. But you can't be a fool while you do it," Arthur explained. "You have a heart of gold; you care about those around you, and will literally: go to the other side of the world for them. But being a hero isn't about carrying people out of gas it's about finding the right way to do it, being smart, and knowing your limitations, as well as having the bravery to do it in the first place."

"Arthur…" Alfred shivered, "come on, I'm no hero…"

"Wrong, you are."

"But I can't save anyone, I couldn't save Matt, I couldn't save anyone else from the Globe, I stuff up, I made you angry… I'm a fucking idiot." Alfred explained.

"You found Matthew, and you did save him. It was Ivan who sealed his fate. Also, if I didn't hold you back, you would have died trying to save Matthew, even he knew this. Also, you led multiple people out of the Globe, that's very heroic." Arthur explained, "Your actions don't determine whether you are a hero, they simply amplify the fact that you already are a hero; because you care."  
Alfred didn't know how to respond, however, his burning cheeks spoke for him, making Arthur smile.  
"Agent Hero," Arthur muttered, glancing down at the American, whose chin rested on his shoulder, "now, how about you live up to that honourable title?"

Whilst the American and the Brit spent their time together, across town: a Hungarian woman stood in her kitchen, preparing her dinner.  
She listened and grumbled with irritation as he listened to her co-worker present the news in her place. Of course, Gilbert explained to her why he had to pull her away from being associated with the disaster at the Globe Theatre: but it did not stop her from being unhappy about it. This was going to be the story that would make her career skyrocket; it just _had_ to be associated with an MI6 case!  
However… this fact deeply worried Elizabeta…

Her mobile phone vibrated, catching her attention. Quickly, Elizabeta unlocked her phone and read the message from Gilbert.

 _On my way home, see you soon. Stay inside._

Elizabeta frowned, but then sighed as she watched her husband's kind and bubbly spirit deteriorate. It had started slowly, but then his frustration and despair only became more and more noticeable. Even his texts had changed, before this case had begun: a simple text like this would involve a whole novel's worth of emoji's that would have Elizabeta giggling like a little girl.

She sighed as she put her phone into her pants pocket.

 _"_ _News of death resulting from the disaster at the Shakespeare Globe Theatre arise more worries of a terror related attack on London."_ The news presenter explained as the story was reported as breaking news.

"No…" Elizabeta gasped, imagining how upset Gilbert will be upon hearing the news.

Of course, Elizabeta was upset that she hadn't been told about the danger facing the city, in fact, she still hardly knew of what really happened that day, or what has been driving her husband and brother-in-law towards madness.  
But then again, she rationalised, she was a reporter, so anyone within MI6 would be cautious around her.

Deep in her thoughts, Elizabeta continued to stir her food as it cooked in the frying pan, whilst she continued to listen to the developing story.

 _"_ _The first man to die of the mystery gas has been announced by London Bridge Hospital, an elderly man with known health problems has died following the disaster that befell the Shakespeare Globe Theatre."_

"Goddammit, Gil…" Elizabeta hissed, _she would have been reporting that!_

Suddenly, her phone buzzed again, promptly, she picked it up to check.

 _Is the door locked?  
Has the patrol visited you yet?  
Do you know where the panic buttons are? _

Elizabeta sighed, sad to see how paranoid her husband had become.

 _They left earlier, I'm safe, don't worry about me_

But then Elizabeta realised, perhaps she hadn't locked the door… She quickly left the kitchen and ran to the front door, she shook the door handle and sighed with relief when she saw that it was locked. But despite this, a pile of fear and anxiety had formed in the pit of her stomach… something felt off. But Elizabeta shook it off, remembering that she is staying in the safe house, she is fine, and no one other than Gilbert and the police knows where she is.

She walked back into the kitchen, and froze… she noticed that the curtains of the window moved to the changing wind conditions outside and Elizabeta couldn't help but shudder, knowing that she had left the windows shut…  
 _She wasn't alone…_  
Knowing that she was being watched, Elizabeta acted as though she hadn't noticed the change, humming a song as she turned back to her dinner, pretending that she wasn't panicking on the inside. She glanced to the wall near the fridge, seeing the black panic button, which sat just out of her reach… if she could just press it, help would be there within minutes.  
Elizabeta couldn't stand it anymore she dashed from the stove to the fridge, reaching for the panic button, however, before she could make it, she was grabbed by her jacket and pulled back towards the stove, and grabbed by the hair.

Elizabeta shrieked, praying that someone was close enough to hear. The man behind her managed to lift her off of her feet and began to carry her through the kitchen as she screamed and kicked like a toddler in a tantrum. As he carried her past the stove, she reached for the frying pan, and attempted to smack him with it. The burning metal of the pan scorched his skin and the force of the blow knocked him back, forcing him to let go of her. Without running, Elizabeta turned to face her attacker, seeing his long blonde locks consume his black gloved fingers as he rubbed his head and groaned in pain. Without hesitation, she smacked him over the head again, before finally turning and running away, smacking her fist on the panic button as she dashed past.  
Quickly, Elizabeta ran up the stairs, hearing her attacker chase her as she made a dash for the master bathroom, where she knew that the door would have a lock.

She ran into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, pressing the lock on the door right before the doorhandle began to shake violently and her attacker's body smash into the wood of the door. Elizabeta pressed the panic button beside the large bathroom mirror as she took her phone out of her pocket. Without hesitation, she called Gilbert.

 _"_ _Someone's in the house!"_ She quietly hissed as she slid to the floor, throwing her head into her hand as the banging continued, shaking her sanity with each bang.

"I'm nearly there!" Gilbert cried, "Have you pressed the panic button?!"

"I pressed two!" Elizabeta cried, "I'm locked in the bathroom!" Elizabeta shuddered when she heard another loud bang shake the door, _"GO AWAY!"_ She shrieked at the attacker, pretending to be defenceless, knowing that if he stayed long enough to get captured, she will have done something to help... _"PLEASE! JUST GO AWAY!"_

 _"_ _ELIZABETA!"_ She heard Gilbert cry from the other side of the phone, _"I'M NEARLY THERE! DON'T YOU DARE GO AWAY! PLEASE!"_  
She had never heard Gilbert sound so desperate before, she was sure that she could hear him cry… it was a noise that made her heart ache and her hands tremble.  
 _"LIZ! LIZ! PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE OK! PLEASE!"_

"Gilbert… please hurry, I've locked myself away…" Elizabeta whispered into the phone, relieved to hear that the banging had stopped…. And red and blue lights began to shine from outside the window.

Later that evening, Alfred tossed and turned in his sleep, unable to handle the dream that befell him…  
However to Alfred, he hadn't realised that he had fallen into a deep sleep that would be influenced by his deep anxiety, and fearful events of that day.

Alfred's eyes were wide and fearful as he took deep breaths, feeling the toxic gas take root within his lungs as he wandered down a hallway the led to a black door. Alfred didn't understand why he needed to get through that door, he only knew that the answers to every question that plagued his mind laid directly behind that black slab of wood. The thick gas swam around his feet like a river, consuming his feet like thick, deadly fog.

Alfred pushed the door open and marched in, only to freeze at the sight before him.

The MI6 office had lost off of its colour… It reminded Alfred of an old fashioned movie, where the screen shook and the colours were bleach, except for the vibrant red blood that stained the carpet and the walls.  
Alfred shuddered at the sight of the countless bodies that were scattered throughout the office. Yao was hunched over his desk, with an ugly wound to the back of his head, despite this, the mans dark eyes followed Alfred as he passed. Ludwig and Feliciano were on the floor nearby, each with horrid wounds to their chests, and their hands connected… And like Yao, their eyes followed him, watching him with eyes that implied dark intent. Gilbert sat up with blood splattering his chest, leaning his back against the desk that Kiku laid on top of, both watching him like everyone else. Alfred jumped back when the cloud of fog parted before he stepped on someone else… Alfred could almost not believe it when he saw Francis and Ivan laying across from each other, brandishing the same chest wounds that had originally taken their lives… Their cold stares shook Alfred to the core, forcing the American to turn away from them. Only to be confronted by the sight of someone standing with their back to him, it was his light blonde hair that gave him away to Alfred.

"Arthur…" Alfred stuttered, terrified of the sight of Arthur standing in the cloud of gas, not moving, and not responding to his words, making Alfred fear the worst… "Arthur…"  
Arthur's shoulders shuddered as the Englishman fell back, as though struck by the signal of Alfred's words. Alfred gasped when Arthur fell to the ground, revealing a grotesque wound that ran across his throat.  
Out of every sight that he had seen during his journey, it was this one that made Alfred fall to his knees and grip the Englishman's head, finally staring into that same stare that he had seen within the eyes of every man he passed. It was filled with unnatural hate and anger, staring at him as though he had done a terrible wrong, it made Alfred want to be sick. Alfred could not find the words to say, it was as though the gas had sealed his throat shut, preventing him from speaking. Alfred shuddered when he felt the blood from Arthur's wound slide under his fingernails…

As though another force took control of his body, Alfred's head rose, forcing him to look forward, where a figure stood metres away, staring at the American as he held Arthur's head. Alfred knew that it was him … the kidnapper … he stood tall, as though proud of his work: and challenging Alfred to stop him. He was dressed all in black, and wore a black motorcycle helmet to protect his head.

Without another thought, Alfred rose to his feet and dashed at the figure, only to be flawlessly kicked to the ground, falling on top of a desk, toppling it over.

 _"_ _You cannot stop me."_ The voice announced as he attempted to stab Alfred with an intimidating knife, barely missing the American and stabbing the wood of the desk. " _"Everything will fall."_

 _"_ _NO IT WON'T!"_ Alfred cried, finally regaining his voice as he rose from the floor and punched the visor of the motorcycle helmet, creating a crack.

Their fist fight continued as Alfred struggled to fight to regain control of his dream, however he felt the gas take its hold over his body, weakening him to a disadvantage.

The figure took Alfred by the neck and pulled the American into him, right as Alfred took another shot at the figures jaw, knocking the motorcycle helmet clear off of his head, revealing his face.

Alfred froze as his joints fell weak… he could only stare at the figures face with shock and horror as he felt the figures knife stab him in the stomach, sending shivers of pain through his entire body…

 _"_ _Matt…"_ Alfred gasped as Matthew let Alfred go, and watched as Alfred fell to his knees from the pain of his wound.

"The answers are all in front of you," Matthew announced as he turned his back to Alfred and began to walk away. Alfred gasped in pain as he crawled on the floor, desperate to reach his friend. "You need to look around you and question what is supposed to be there."

 _"_ _Matt…"_ Alfred wheezed.

"I forgive you…" Matthew sighed, "However… your nightmare will never end, and everyone you care about will fall to their knees and scream as the enemy strikes them from behind…"

 _"_ _Please…"_ Alfred wheezed as his knees became weak, and the American fell to his side, writhing in pain.

 _"_ _And you will be all alone…"_

Alfred eyes shot open as he took in a deep breath of fresh air, hearing a buzzing noise take him away from his nightmare.  
Alfred had returned to a world of darkness, except for the light of a mobile phone screen which lit the shape of Arthur's back as he slept beside him.

Alfred shivered with fear and clutched his sides as he finally took in the horror that he saw in his dream, and was shocked by how composed he was throughout that nightmare.

Finally, Alfred focussed back on the light and lifted Arthur's phone, seeing that he was receiving a call from Gilbert. Alfred frowned, it was nearly midnight… why is he receiving a call from him now?

"Arthur…" Alfred muttered.

Arthur groaned in response as Alfred rolled to lay behind him hooking his arm over his stomach, showing Arthur the phone, whom recoiled at the sudden influx of bright light.

"It's Gilbert," Alfred pointed out, "It'd be a bit weird if I answered."

Arthur muttered something incoherent as he lazily took the phone from Alfred's hand, and answered the call, trying to sound as composed and awake as possible. "Kirkland…"

"Get to Scotland Yard. _Now."_ Gilbert hissed. "We caught a kidnapper."


	9. Chapter 9

"So…" Alfred muttered as he and Arthur walked past the rotating cube that flashed the title 'Scotland Yard'. Usually Arthur would find himself borrowing the interrogation facilities of the Scotland Yard, as usually the MI6 ones were busy. Despite how much the Yard hated it, the MI6 knew that they could use it as much as they needed. "Are we gonna play _'good cop, bad cop'_? Dibs on bad cop!"

"Really?" Arthur asked, darting a harsh glare at the American. Arthur stared at him intensely, picturing the American sitting before him in handcuffs, terrified of the possibility of going to prison. It was a stare that chilled Alfred to the bone, making him think of Arthur's eyes in his nightmare; there was that same glare of fury, making Alfred eyes widen and mouth tighten with fear as he remembered seeing Arthur lay dead before him… Even remembering that he had a dream like that made Alfred's knees go weak with anxiety. Alfred's fear was reflected onto his face and that made Arthur smile and tease, "Are you sure you want to be the bad cop? I'm terrible at playing nicely…"

"Alright, fine, you play bad cop!" Alfred whined, making Arthur chuckle, unaware of the anxiety he had unleashed on the American.

Arthur had been to the Scotland Yard base so often; he knew the entire area like the back of his hand, easily able to escort Alfred towards the interrogation rooms, where they met with Ludwig and Gilbert.

"This dick was caught trying to run from the safe house," Gilbert explained as he opened the door to the observation room, where on the wall was a large glass window that peered into the interrogation room, where the young man with blonde hair sat at the table, unaware that he was being watched.  
He sat impatiently, his huffs blowing on the shaggy blonde hair that bordered his face; his green eyes were narrow and angry, as though he was waiting to attack anyone unfortunate to walk through the door.  
"His name is Vash Zwingli, a petty criminal from Switzerland, migrated here four years ago and has been in and out of jail ever since."

"Does he have any connections to Braginski?" Arthur asked.

"Not that we know of. I think he's just a pawn, sent to throw us off," Ludwig explained, "there is no way in hell that he is responsible for the Shakespeare attack, or Feliciano's kidnapping."

"But he can help us find out who sent him," Alfred pointed out.

"Exactly," Gilbert replied, "Arthur, you and I can do our good cop – bad cop routine. And then Ludwig and I need to go, and Alfred can help you with the rest of the investigation. We have stuff that we need to do."

"Like what?" Arthur asked.

"Kiku and I think we've found another lead to a possible kidnapper," Gilbert explained, "it's hard to explain, I'll brief you two later."

"Fine," Alfred replied before the Germans left the viewing room. "Ludwig may be right; I don't think this man is responsible for Feliciano's kidnapping, or the attack on the Globe."

"I know," Arthur replied, "but if we scare him with all of this information and accusations, he will confess who hired him, and lead us right to the real kidnappers."  
The agents watched as the door opened and Gilbert walked in, with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You're a real idiot," Gilbert hissed, "thinking that you could kidnap the wife of an MI6 agent."

"I didn't know she was MI6!" Vash confessed, "If I had known who she was, I wouldn't have done it."

"It doesn't change the fact that you did it, and now you're gonna be in a whole other world of shit," Gilbert explained as he took the seat and sat across from Vash, before sliding the file in his direction, "you're being accused of more kidnapping, and terrorism."

 _"Terrorism!?"_ Vash hissed, "why the fuck am I being accused of terrorism?!"

"Don't play stupid, Vash, you're smarter than that, you know exactly who hired you; and what they have done…" Vash's eyes narrowed as a smirk crossed his lips as Gilbert continued to speak, "you can get a lighter sentence, and even have the terror charge dropped if you help our investigation."

"I wouldn't tell you, even if I knew who they were." Vash admitted, "They are very protective of their identities."

"Well," Gilbert sighed, "I'm only trying to help you out here; I know you're not a terrorist, you're not responsible for what happened at the Globe Theatre. But we do know that you can tell us who did…"

"I thought the bad cop was supposed to go first in the interrogation," Alfred pointed out as he turned to look at Arthur, who was intensely watching Gilbert interrogate the suspect through the glass.

"Gilbert and I like to shake things up a little, give them something that they won't expect," Arthur explained before he sprang into action and began to march out of the viewing room, "now's my queue."  
Alfred couldn't help but feel excited, he waited patiently as Gilbert continued to speak nicely to the suspect, until the door bombed open and Arthur marched in. His eyes went straight to the suspect, staring down at him like he was nothing but a petty criminal.

"Our other lead was no good, which only leaves you behind…" Arthur grimaced, "you're in a lot of shit, young man."  
Alfred couldn't help but chuckled as Arthur berated the young suspect with evidence that links him to the attempted kidnapping of Elizabeta, and his connections to the people who kidnapped Feliciano. Alfred could see that Vash was beginning to crumble, visibly and emotionally, he shook his head more, tightened his hands into fists and his voice became shaky as he denied the accusations.

Alfred had always loved to watch interrogations, and smiled when he remembered the few times he and Matthew had done the 'good cop – bad cop' routine… the purpose of the technique is to coax the suspect into cooperating with the good cop, which in this case was Gilbert either out of trust or out of fear of the bad cop, who was Arthur. The suspect may then seek protection by and trust the good cop and provide the information the interrogators are seeking. Alfred couldn't help but marvel at the power of this psychological weapon.

"You don't understand…" Vash sighed.

"What don't we understand?" Gilbert asked as Arthur paced around Vash, circling him like how a shark would circle a sinking ship.

"Things are changing around here; criminals are not acting anymore because something is coming!" Vash concluded, "Haven't you noticed; Roderich Edelstein has disappeared, and so has Francis Bonnefoy, the two worst criminals of London have left!"

"Edelstein is in jail, he's never seeing the light of day again—"

"And Bonnefoy is dead," Arthur spat, his eyes narrowing darkly.

Vash froze, "Oh…" suddenly, the Swiss began to appear confused, and even worried.

"Tell us what is going on…" Gilbert said quietly.

"We were told that they had run away because they knew what was going to happen to the city… everyone has started to move away, other criminals are even offering to help… the entire city is going to crumble and those who can't afford to stay are leaving… something big is coming…" Vash explained, "I was one of those idiots who agreed to help them, they gave me an address and told me to kidnap the woman in that house. I told them that I had never kidnapped before, but they didn't care because I was their only option. Oh… that reminds me."

"What?"

"They gave me this," Vash explained as he handed Arthur a small device, Arthur couldn't help but look at Gilbert with a glare of horror when he realised that Vash had handed him a memory stick. "They were using me as a fucking errand-boy, and I let them."

"Change of plans; Arthur, you and Alfred should get this to Yao," Gilbert snapped.

"Right!" Arthur replied as he dashed out of the interrogation room, leaving Gilbert alone with the suspect.

"So, you never saw the faces of the people who hired you?" Gilbert asked.

"N-no, it was always on the phone, and when I saw them, they had their helmets on," Vash sighed.

"Alright…" Gilbert muttered as he took out his phone, wondering whether it would be a wise idea to do this without Kiku, after all, this is what they had been working on.  
Gilbert decided that it was worth it, he needed to exploit Vash in his moment of weakness.  
"I'm going to play you some voice recordings and I want you to tell me whether they sound familiar…"

Meanwhile, Alfred and Arthur sped towards the MI6 offices, where they knew that Yao would be coming into work, judging by the rising sun.  
Alfred couldn't help but worry, feeling his anxiety weigh him down into the seats of Arthur's car… He gripped the tiny memory stick and imagined what horrors it could behold. Surely this must be their response to their attack on the Globe Theatre, perhaps even an update on what is going on with Feliciano…  
"Arthur… Feliciano would be dead… would he?" Alfred asked.

Alfred saw Arthur's grip on the steering wheel tighten, "They wouldn't kill him: they're using him to toy with us and keep us emotionally involved in the case. They would not kill him."

Despite Arthur's promise, Alfred's stomach couldn't help but sink.

Eventually Arthur and Alfred made it to the MI6 offices, and were relieved to hear from the receptionist that Yao had arrived before them. They ran to the upstairs office, too impatient to wait for the elevator, they were desperate to arrive to a computer and see what had happened to their friend. Alfred frowned with confusion when his chest began to ache in pain and his breathes became wheezy and deep, running up the stairs was the most basic of workouts: why was this wearing him out?

"Are you ok?" Arthur asked, looking at him from a couple of stairs above him.

Alfred knew that if he admitted that something was wrong, Arthur would only worry and drag him to the hospital, so Alfred smiled as best as he could, "I'm fine."

"But Alfred," Arthur sighed as he stepped down a couple of steps, before placing his hands on the sides of Alfred's face and staring into the American's nervous eyes.  
Alfred could feel his heartbeat raging out of control, and he could no longer tell if it was over the exercise or the power of Arthur's stare.

"You look like _shit,"_ Arthur spat, making Alfred frown.  
Arthur could no longer ignore the look of pain in Alfred's eyes; it's true that the American had been complaining about a headache, could this possibly have something to do with the gas? Arthur had become paranoid over the state of Alfred's health. His once fresh eyes were plagued by those dreaded grey circles and his glowing skin had paled from the stress.

 _"Thanks."_ Alfred hissed, "Now come on, we need to go—"

"If you feel that anything is wrong, please tell me; we still don't know what I.V.A.N does…" Arthur sighed, his hand still resting on Alfred's soft skin, "I felt you shaking in your sleep last night… you're worrying me."

"I'm fine, I promise," Alfred promised.

Arthur couldn't find the time to say anything else, as Alfred continued to run up the staircase, pulling Arthur up by the hand.

They eventually reached their level, and entered the office, huffing from their journey, catching the attention of the three people in the room.

"Did you run up the stairs?" Kiku asked.

 _"Why?"_ Ludwig frowned.

"What's going on, we heard about Elizabeta!" Yao exclaimed.  
However, everyone was silenced when Alfred lifted his hand, showing everyone the memory stick he held in his hand.

It was Ludwig who appeared to be hit hardest by the revelation, as his head fell into his hands as he tried his best to remain strong and shield his despair.

The video began with a dark screen, however, there was sound… the camera was being moved around, however the noise of a motorcycle engine echoed out of the computer, as well as people's voices.  
Suddenly the camera was lifted, and it was the view of the river Thames, the camera panned around to show that the cameraman was standing directly in front of the globe theatre. Suddenly the camera turned again as two figures on a motorcycle passed by, both wearing black motorcycle helmets. The cameraman turned pointed down to reveal that they were holding a handgun, and as Alfred and Arthur passed on a motorcycle, they pulled the trigger and sent Alfred and Arthur to the ground and skidding.  
Everyone watched in shock as the camera zoomed in to film the shocked stares on Alfred and Arthur's faces, capturing the event like a childhood film. The cameraman was extremely shaky, and was hardly able to focus as they filmed Alfred crawling to Arthur.  
Alfred could remember every single moment as it was played out before him, as the camera continued to film all up to when the ground shook as the gas bomb exploded within the theatre, before the footage cut off and returned to darkness.

"They were all there, just waiting for us…" Arthur concluded, his voice shaking from the shock.

However, the video wasn't going to end there.  
The next shot made everyone tense and stare in shock, as Feliciano's hunched over head was seen; the Italian was groaning and growling like an animal. Feliciano lifted his head to look at the camera, his pupils had narrowed to an incredible level, sending chills down everyone's spines, Feliciano's skin was covered in little self-inflicted scratches and bruises, as well as being unclean. Feliciano had become a lesser form of the strong and proud agent that he was before.  
As expected, the red text at the bottom provided the agents with the input of the kidnappers.

 _'This is proof of life and of our power.  
During his time in our care; Agent Vargas has undergone countless sessions of exposure to I.V.A.N.  
Despite how many times he has gone through the hallucinations and pain, he cannot become used to it. We have been keeping him alive and treating him with a cure we have developed.  
And so, not only do we provide the means to bring London to its knees; we have the cure that can save it. _

_We do not know what short term exposure to I.V.A.N does to the body, so we suggest that you keep an eye on Agent Jones, just in case something interesting happens. Yes. We know about his exposure, because we have eyes everywhere._

 _Cease all MI6 action now, and we will release it. If not, the death rates from the attack on Shakespeare will only grow, and more and more attacks will happen throughout the city._

 _This is your second warning._

 _You don't want to know what will be third…'_

However, it wasn't over, as the screen cut to black before changing to the view of an office security camera. Everyone was confused until the reality of the situation dawned upon them, the desks were placed in the same areas as the office they stood in, they recognised the people who were walking around the office; they could see Yao, Gilbert, Alfred and Arthur talking amongst themselves, not suspecting at all that a fifth set of eyes were amongst them.

"No fucking way…" Alfred gasped as Arthur covered his mouth with his hand as his eyes widened with shock.

Everyone's eyes lifted to the direction of where the camera was pointing, to stare at a security camera that sat in the corner of the room, keeping an eye on the entire office.  
Ludwig snapped and screamed as he snatched a stapler from Yao's desk and threw it directly at the camera with a powerful swing; smashing the camera and making it fall to the floor, before the German himself fell to his knees...


	10. Chapter 10

Alfred could feel the atmosphere sink almost instantly as Alfred stood back and watched Gilbert as he inspected the video, recoiling in shock at the state of Feliciano, before seeing the footage taken from the office security camera.

 _"_ _FUCKING BASTARDS!"_ Gilbert snapped as he slammed his fist onto the desk, making it shake and Yao recoil in surprise. "FUCKING—AHH!"

"What do we do now?" Arthur asked as he crossed his arms over his chest and frowned, trying to mask the anxiety that boiled underneath his skin.

Gilbert glanced at Kiku, who quietly shook his head, before Gilbert turned to look at Alfred and Arthur, "we have to set up a state of emergency… regulate all airports and points of entry, detonate any unclaimed baggage anywhere in the city, alert the Prime Minister, bump up security at all popular locations, get the royal family out of London and notify all police to carry hidden gas masks…"  
After his commands, Gilbert followed Kiku into his office and made sure that the door was shut behind them before Gilbert turned to speak.

"Do we have enough evidence to make an arrest?" Kiku asked.

"Not a conviction, perhaps if we hire Lovino he can get us a convicting case. I'll speak to Lovino and show him what we have, he can tell us whether we have enough for him to work with. I think we have enough to perform an arrest, but we need a little more time. Just let them make one more mistake and we can have them for good." Gilbert explained. "Vash was a great help: he recognised the voice."

"Perfect…" Kiku replied, "we just need to get them before they detonate another gas bomb, that's the trick… we can't alert them into thinking that we're onto them, otherwise this entire operation will be destroyed."

"I'll explain everything to Arthur and Alfred, you should check for any other irregularities in our security system, that can't be the only camera they've hacked into…" Gilbert muttered as his eyes wandered beyond Kiku, and to the security camera that sat in the corner of his office. "We'll speak later…"  
Kiku's eyes narrowed, understanding the reasoning behind Gilbert's suspicion. Before Kiku could reply, the door to Gilbert's office opened and Ludwig wandered in, with his hands tightened into fists.  
The physical toll that the case had on the younger German was obvious, his hair wasn't perfectly pushed back, his eyes were dragged from the countless sleepless nights, and his lips were cracked and dry and Gilbert felt his heart sink when he saw his little brother in such a low state. It was obvious: Ludwig was on the verge of having an emotional breakdown.

"Gilbert…" Ludwig muttered as he shuffled to stand beside his brother, wearing a hurt expression. Gilbert sighed, assuming what Ludwig was going to say. "I am not backing out of my promise; we're going to get him back: at least we know that they haven't killed him."

"I know, but…" Ludwig muttered as he held out his hand and opened his palm, revealing a set of motorcycle keys, "Let me go. I found them once, I will do it again."

Gilberts eyes narrowed as he considered the situation, before chuckling, "just don't go rouge on me, ok? Don't disappear; let me know where you are."

"Wait…" Kiku muttered, "I think I have an idea…"

Meanwhile, Arthur was still in a state of shock from the revelation, "they've been watching us the entire time…" Arthur's heart sank as the fact weighed him down as he glanced at Alfred and saw the Americans blank expression behind his rectangular frames. Alfred noticed Arthur staring at him, he wanted to smile at the Englishman and tell him that everything was going to be ok: but somehow he knew that it wasn't going to help, he couldn't just tell Arthur that everything was going to be ok: he needed to make it happen. Despite the pain in his eyes, Arthur's stare still made Alfred's heart flutter, like he was a nervous teenager again; it made him calm despite the panic of the people around them.

Before Alfred could say anything, the door to Gilbert's office opened and Ludwig stormed out, his eyes frenzied with rage.

"Ludwig!" Gilbert snapped, like a parent scolding a child, as Kiku snuck out of Gilbert's office and walked towards Yao, trying his best to ignore the intense atmosphere of the room, "Just because this is a state of emergency, it does not give you the right to act outside of the law, there are rules for us to follow!"

"How can you keep talking about the rules, how would you feel if it was Elizabeta on that tape?! You'd have the fucking army going after her!" Ludwig snapped.

"Don't act like I'm indifferent, Feliciano was my friend too!"

"He's more than a friend for me, you have no idea what I'm going through!" Ludwig snapped, "I can't just sit back and wait for answers: I need to find him before they do something else to him!"

Gilbert gritted his teeth as his eyes narrowed, "if you don't stop this, I will have no choice but to take you off the case!"

"Fine: I don't care!" Ludwig snapped as he turned around to face Gilbert, stopping in front of Yao's desk where the Chinaman sat in confusion and fear, gritting his teeth Ludwig's eyes narrowed, "take me off of the case: I'll get more done then!"

Gilbert hissed, "Fine then! If you're going to behave like a fucking child, then go!"

"Oh, and another thing; if you want to send agents to babysit me, let them know that I still have my gun!" Ludwig snapped.

"You little shit—" Before Gilbert could even take a step closer, Ludwig turned around and marched out of the office, leaving Gilbert standing by the door to his office, trying his best to remain composed.

Alfred glanced at Arthur whose eyes were wide with shock, _"What just happened…?"_

Gilbert was seething with rage as his hands tightened into fists, before he looked to Yao with a look so sharp, it made the Chinaman shake, before turning back into his office and slammed the door shut, with the slam echoing through the office.

"We need to focus on finding out how they got our security footage," Kiku explained.

"Do you think they hacked in?" Yao asked.

Kiku narrowed his eyes as he stared down at Yao, "I'm not sure about that…" Yao's eyes narrowed in response, as though wondering what Kiku was suggesting.

"Well, what can we do? Ludwig's gone rouge again!" Yao pointed out.

"Although, he has a point: we shouldn't be sitting around reviewing footage, we should be out in the field, tracking them down manually," Alfred pointed out.

"That's not how we do things over here, we use more peaceful methods," Arthur pointed out, "Although, I cannot deny that our lack of action is… odd…"  
Alfred glanced at Arthur to see the Brit deep in thought before he whispered, "something is really wrong." Arthur glanced at Alfred, "meet me in my office, I'll join you soon."

Alfred nodded as he walked into Arthur's office and wandered around the small office, suddenly being rocked by the pounding pain in his head. The day's events had momentarily taken his concentration away from the pain, but now that he was alone in silence, he could focus on nothing but it. Alfred gritted his teeth as he ran his hand through his hair, cursing himself for the lack of peaceful sleep. Despite his own desperate attempts at self-reassurance, Alfred couldn't help but wonder whether there was something else that caused his headache…

"No… it's not that…" Alfred muttered, pushing away his anxieties. However… he couldn't deny the timing, or the dream, _"it's not… I wasn't exposed for that long…"_

Alfred could feel his shoulder's start to fall heavy, as his eyes widened and his mind echoed the noises of internal conflict. He took sharp breathes as he leaned against the dark wooden desk for support; he glanced down at his hands and noted their paleness, compared to the rest of his tanned body. He tightened his hands into fists as he tried to not panic, and only reminded himself that he is having a headache because he did not get a proper sleep, and he did not get a good sleep because he was in shock over the events that happened during the day – _it does not mean that I.V.A.N has poisoned him._  
Alfred rocked forward and hovered his hand over the table, only to gasp when a drop of crimson liquid land on the table, making Alfred freeze with shock and horror.

"Wh…" Alfred gasped as he ran his hand across his nostrils, spreading the red substance over his fingers, "no… no-no-no…." Alfred began to panic as he searched Arthur's desk for something to wipe his nose with and silently prayed that he wasn't going to make a mess as he felt the blood begin to drip off of the tip of his nose. "Oh thank fuck…" Alfred sighed when he saw a small packet of tissues in Arthur's top drawer and wiped his nose desperately, collecting the blood that ran from his nose. Alfred sighed when he checked the tissue, to see that the blood loss wasn't bad, leaving only a pathetic skid mark on the tissue.  
 _"Not today, Braginski, not today."_

Alfred spent the rest of the day in a perpetual state of internal panicking, struggling to find the answer to his ailment that did not point to that poisonous gas…

Arthur couldn't help but notice that something was bothering Alfred, however, he knew that if he did ask, Alfred would give him some bullshit excuse. Arthur knew, it was I.V.A.N raging havoc over the body of his new American partner, and Arthur wasn't going to sit back and let the poison win.  
Nonetheless, Gilbert made Alfred's care Arthur's responsibility, and so he was in charge of making sure that Alfred attended hospital appointments. Ironically; Gilbert suggested that Alfred stay at Arthur's house, which made Arthur only chuckle over the fact that the lad hadn't spent a night in his own apartment since Ludwig first went rouge.  
Arthur even had to fight off the urge to laugh out loud when Gilbert pointed out that Ludwig had told him that _'you and Agent Jones got along well',_ only for Arthur to reply with _'you have no idea'._

"Oh my god, did you tell him?" Alfred gasped upon Arthur's explanation as he gripped the hospital seat in excitement. Arthur crossed his arms over his shoulders as he frowned at the American, wondering when the doctor was going to show up to commence Alfred's check-up.

"What? That we sleep together?" Arthur asked, "Of course not, it's none of his business."

"You're not really into making friends at work, are you?" Alfred asked.

"Aren't you the exception?" Arthur asked.

"You know… now that I think about it… not that I don't enjoy spending the night with you, but perhaps we can try a little harder to turn this into a relationship," Alfred proposed.

"Heh," Arthur chuckled, "I suppose that's fair, say… After your appointment, why don't we go and do something nice, take our minds off of everything?"

Alfred eyes widened with hope as his cheeks flushed a bright pink, "oh you…"

"Although… I should explain to you what else Gilbert told me… about the case…" Arthur muttered.

"Oh?"

"Kiku and Gilbert have been working on another case on the side, and they believe that they've figured out who the kidnapper is. It's just about getting the right amount of evidence before pouncing on them, and they've got to do it before the next I.V.A.N attack."

"Really? They know who it is?" Alfred asked, "why haven't we got them in handcuffs yet?!"

"It's more complicated than that. But then again, they're only a suspect, there are still more questions and coincidences that need to be answered for. They're—"

Arthur was interrupted when there was a knock on the doctor's office, and a tall man in a white coat wandered in, holding a clipboard under his arm. "Agent Jones?"

"Yup!" Alfred chirped.

"Great to see that you're chipper, I can't say the same for the other people who were at the theatre," the doctor explained with a sigh, "It's gotten much worse, I'm afraid… Let's hope that you're going to stay better…"

It was a poison, and the doctor knew that it was present in Alfred, however they could not say how severely… According to the doctor, the patients are getting worse and more and more die. However, he did not fear the worst for Alfred, as his exposure was minimal: and he was still walking.

Alfred and Arthur walked out of the hospital, arm and arm, speaking discreetly about Gilbert and Kiku's discovery, pondering over the possibility of the suspect being the kidnapper.  
They also pondered about their night, and where their adventure will lead them, that was until Arthur's phone began to ring loudly as Alfred and Arthur walked towards Arthur's care.

"Oh no…" Arthur muttered as he stared at his ringing phone, "it's gilbert, he only calls me when something is wrong, or he needs me."

Alfred frowned, his face writhe with his clear disappointment, "It's ok… we can do something tomorrow night."

"We'll make it a date, hm?" Alfred chuckled.

Arthur couldn't help but smile as he answered the phone call, before he could say anything, he was cut off by Gilbert's heavy breathing.  
 _"Get to Kiku's house, now! I'll send you the address!"_

Arthur frowned, confused and unnerved by Gilbert's panic, "Gilbert, breathe, what is going on?"

 _"_ _It's Kiku… He's dead."_


	11. Chapter 11

The sense of dread loomed over Alfred and Arthurs shoulders as they made their way towards the house, the bright red and blue flashing lights illuminating the dark street. The front of the house was blocked off by police tape, and Sadiq stood guard, when he saw Alfred and Arthur coming, he lifted the tap to allow Alfred and Arthur to pass underneath.

"I'm so sorry…" The Turk sighed as Arthur passed underneath, which only worsened the Englishman's anxiety.

As soon as Arthur passed through the front door, the overwhelming scent of blood struck him in the face, making his face tense. He could hear voices coming from the living room, which Arthur knew was further down the hall. Multiple officers were wandering around the house, collecting whatever evidence they could find, all wearing grim faces and silence.  
The front entrance gave Alfred and Arthur a glimpse into what the rest of the house would look like: absolute chaos, pictures were pulled off the walls, the rug was adjacent, the front table was tipped over, and it looked like a massive fight had occurred in the house, and it had gotten ugly.  
Arthur felt Alfred reach for his hand as they got closer to the living room, they could hear Gilbert's voice; sounding as distressed as he did on the phone.

And when they entered the living room, they knew why.  
Kiku was sitting in the middle of the room, duct-taped to a dining chair by his arms and legs; he was hunched forward, revealing an ugly exit wound from a gunshot on the back of his head. His lap, head and hands were covered in blood, making Kiku look like a prop in a horror movie.  
Gilbert was standing before the body, watching as another detective was inspecting the body. Arthur recognised the detective as Agent Lukas Bondevik, a forensics expert whom he had always seen whenever he visited the MI6 labs.

"Why?" Arthur grumbled, tightening his grip on Alfred's hand, as the American recoiled in shock.

"They staged it like a robbery." Gilbert explained, "His neighbour found him when she noticed that the front door was left open."

"The wounds are consistent with torture…" Lukas revealed as he rubbed a swab across Kiku's fingertips, revealing a thick Norwegian accent, "he's missing nearly a whole hands worth of fingernails. They were trying to make him talk…"

"What could have they wanted?" Alfred asked.

Immediately Gilbert's shoulders buckled as the German took a shark breath, his eyes widening with shock, "the case file…"

"But it's all computer based now: they wouldn't have to torture Kiku to get it, especially if they knew how to hack into our security cameras," Arthur pointed out.

"Not this one…" Gilbert whimpered as he gripped his bright hair with his hands, as though he was about to pull it out, "Kiku and I created a physical copy because we knew that the file would be vulnerable if one of us weren't physically protecting it."

"Where is it now?" Alfred asked.

Gilbert whimpered as he covered his eyes, trying to prevent the presence of persistent tears, _"I have it…"_

"Wait, then that means that…"

 _"_ _They killed the wrong agent…"_ Gilbert crumbled as he fell to his knees and let out a cry, "he's dead because of me! Kiku's dead because of me! _FUCK!"_

"No, Gilbert, they—"

"They wanted the case file and they attacked Kiku because they believed that _he_ had it!" Gilbert snapped.

"Do you think that he talked?" Alfred asked.

"It looks like he put up a fight," Lukas pointed out, "he was very brave. But we don't know whether they killed him because they got the answers, or because they knew that he wasn't going to give them. It all depends on the case file."

Arthur whimpered as his posture began to crumble as the reality finally hit him. Kiku was gone, the skilled agent whom he had spent years working alongside was gone, and there was nothing that he could do about it. Arthur's throat tightened as he began to cry, unable to stop looking at Kiku in his degraded and horrifying state.

"Agent Jones," Lukas said, "please escort Agent Beilschmidt and Agent Kirkland away from the body, it's clearly not good for them."

"No," Gilbert whimpered as he weakly rose from the floor, "we want to keep investigating, we're going to find out what they did to him: and make them suffer!"

As the Agents collected more pieces of the puzzle, the timeline of the story became clearer and clearer.

There were no signs of forced entry, meaning that Kiku let them in, intentionally or not.

The mess at the front entrance indicates that Kiku had opened the front door, and they forced themselves in. Kiku tried to fight them off, creating considerable damage. However, the lack of hair or fingerprints was concerning, and highlighted the attackers' knowledge of the forensic sciences.

It was clear that there was more than one attacker, as Kiku would have easily been able to fight off one attacker by using his training. Like Feliciano, Kiku may have been small: but was capable of using deadly force.

The tilted carpet and scratch marks on the wooden floor indicated that Kiku was dragged into the house by his legs, and was trying to grip to anything he could.

Kiku must have been held into a chair that was taken from his own dining room, and tied down with duct tape, indicating that this was a premeditated attack.

One attacker would have interrogated Kiku for the case file, whilst the other ran around the house, trashing his study, bedroom and bathroom, trying to find the case file, or anything of importance to the case.

When Kiku refused to talk, they pried off his fingernails with some kind of surgical tool; indicating the attackers access to devices and knowledge. Other injuries on Kiku's body told stories of cigarette burns, strategic cutting, even strangulation: all of his injuries confirmed that despite the pain he was going through: he refused to talk.

Kiku was brave until the attacker decided to end it all, with a gunshot to the head.

The attackers left through the front door and left it open, inviting anyone curious enough to come inside and see the horror that they left behind.

Alfred walked up the staircase to go to the bathroom, and also see if any other evidence had been left upstairs, after seeing the evidence of searching in Kiku's bedroom and study; Alfred made his way to the bathroom to do his business.  
It was obvious that Kiku's entire house had been searched, every drawer was open, book and clothes had been scattered throughout the floor, however, despite how thoroughly everyone dusted there was still no fingerprints.

Alfred frowned as a sudden surge of dizziness overcame the American, and was powerful enough to nearly make him fall over. His brain pulsed as though it had a heartbeat, making Alfred grunt in pain as he made his way to the sink to wash his hands. Alfred glanced up and looked in the mirror and froze as he watched a line of blood run from his nostril and across his lips.

"Shit!" Alfred hissed, as he wiped his wet hand across his nostril, smearing the blood across his hand, however the torrent of blood did not end. Alfred's dizziness became worse, preventing him from running to the toilet to grab some paper. Alfred wheezed as he leant against the sink, watching as drops off his blood dripped into the sink, and makes a mess of his chin and lips. Alfred's vision became blurry as he looked in the mirror again, only to see his blurred face smeared in vibrant blood. Alfred's knees buckled and finally gave up on him as the American fell to the floor, feeling his entire body go numb as he began to shake uncontrollably, smearing blood over the tiled bathroom floor as Alfred attempted to rise, only to fall back down to the floor, until Alfred succumbed to the darkness.

Meanwhile downstairs, Arthur watched as Lukas took more photos of the crime scene, noting down any of the Norwegians observations, unaware of the danger Alfred was in upstairs.  
"I'd say that there would have been at least two to three people here," Lukas explained.

"That matches the people who kidnapped Agent Vargas, and those who conducted the attack and the Globe," Arthur pointed out, "It's a trio."

"Have any of you spoken to Braginski's sisters?" Lukas asked.

"I interviewed them over skype," Gilbert pointed out from the other end of the room, as he looked though Kiku's personal computer, checking if it offered anything. "They live in Ukraine, haven't spoken to him in nearly a decade and they barely speak English: they have nothing to do with this."

"And so… the other suspect…?" Arthur asked, glancing at Gilbert.

"We have to act soon," Gilbert sighed, "We can't keep going like this, screw everything!"

"But we need to be smart about it, we need to form a plan so they don't become suspicious of us and run off," Arthur pointed out.

"Go and get Alfred, we'll plan something together," Gilbert ordered.  
Arthur nodded as he placed the notebook on the coffee table before jogging into the entrance hall before walking up the stairs.

"Alfred!" Arthur yelled as he climbed up the stairs, and frowned when he heard no response, not even from the other investigators. Arthur made it to the top of the stairs and made his way towards the bathroom, pressing his ear against the door and knocking lightly, "Alfred? Are you in there?" Despite the silence, Arthur felt the urge to investigate and open the door.  
The sight before him made Arthur recoil in shock as he watched Alfred lie on the floor, his shirt stained with the vibrant blood that poured from his nose and the violent twitching of his hands and legs.  
 _"ALFRED!"_ Arthur screamed as he ran to Alfred's side, falling to the floor beside him, desperately grabbing at his hands and face, _"SOMEBODY CALL AN AMBULANCE!"_  
Arthur began to hyperventilate as he watched Alfred seizure helplessly, his anxiety and panic raging beyond his control, he couldn't take it, Arthur shook violently and screamed. He couldn't take the sight of someone else he cared about falling through his fingers, it was like he was failing to save Allistor and Matthew, he remembered Allistor gunshot wound and Matthew's eyes as he said goodbye… Arthur hadn't realised that Alfred's blood covered his hands as he desperately begged Alfred to come back to him, only to watch Alfred cough violently, spraying spats of blood out of his lips.  
Arthur's worst nightmare was coming true all over again and he was powerless to stop it.


	12. Chapter 12

_Es ist nicht gut  
Wo bist du? _

Ludwig glanced down at his phone, staring at the text from his brother, before putting the phone back into his pocket, with an informant on the way: Ludwig cannot afford to look as though he is in contact with someone. Ludwig stood by the quiet bus stop, trying his best to look as casual as possible; however, his eyes were constantly scanning the street for anyone who was coming towards him. He knew that in order to find Feliciano, he had to reach out to others and he didn't care what kind of scum they were.  
Ludwig glanced to his side when a shorter man stood beside him, leaning against the bus stop. However Ludwig could not assume that it was the person he was looking for, until he heard the code word.

"Do you know if it is going to rain next Monday?" Ludwig asked the stranger, initiating the code.

Without skipping a beat, the stranger responded, "It's going to flood."

Ludwig couldn't help but smile as he finished the code, "We better get an arc… Toby?"

"Nice to meet you, Ludwig," Toby replied, revealing a thick New Zealander accent, "You need some help?"

"I need you to take me to Oz…" Ludwig admitted, making the New Zealander frown.

"What? Has this been approved?" Toby asked, "I've just become one of Oz's closest confidants, if you blow my cover my body will be chucked into the Thames!"

"It will be approved," Ludwig promised, "I have things that I want to offer to him in exchange for information. Do you know if Oz has any information regarding the kidnapping of the CIA agent, and the gas bombing at the Globe?"

"He's spoken to the kidnappers before, they offered him the opportunity to assist them, but he turned it down." Toby explained. "Then he had his goons follow them around, he should have things that can help the investigation."

"Then that's all I need," Ludwig replied as he and the undercover agent began to walk down the street, trying their best to appear as casual as possible, "I've been given orders to use any means necessary."

"But you do understand that if you try to hurt him; I will defend him," Toby pointed out, "nor will I assist you if you are attacked yourself."

"I understand, you need to keep your cover," Ludwig replied, "What are my chances of negotiating with him? Is there anything in particular that I can use?"

Toby frowned as he turned to lead Ludwig down a dark alleyway, away from any prying eyes, "Don't bother offering him anything financial, he's a drug-lord, he does not care about money."

"I assumed so," Ludwig muttered.

"But, he has had problems getting his cargo across the British Channel, MI6 keep intercepting his load before he can receive it or send it out, half of his men are awaiting trial as we speak," Toby admitted before he knocked his knuckles on a dark wooden door. Suddenly, a section of the door slid open, revealing a pair of narrow eyes that stared down at Ludwig and Toby. "I brought Oz a friend."

The door opened and the man behind the door allowed Toby and Ludwig to walk inside, "You're playing a dangerous game, Kiwi."

Loud music was booming through the walls of the dark and smoky club, people sat around talking, drinking and smoking god-knows-what. Ludwig struggled to breathe through the toxic air as he followed the New Zealander towards a small set of stairs, where a heavily-set man stood guard, however after receiving a look from Toby, he let them through without a word. Despite a door closing behind them, Ludwig could still hear the powerful base of the music as Toby led him up the dark and cramped staircase.

"Oz, you have a visitor," Toby announced as he suddenly changed his posture and his facial expression, fitting the text-book description of a drug-lords right hand man.

"Huh?" Another voice asked as Toby led Ludwig into a brightly lit red-room, decorated with worn out couches, broken electronics, a bar and bags full of what Ludwig could only assume was an illegal substance. Ludwig noticed a tall man standing near the back corner of the room, throwing darts at the worn-out dartboard, he was dressed in a black hoodie and blue jeans, and his head was covered in un-kept and messy dark chocolate hair. The Australian glanced at Toby and Ludwig with dark green eyes as his arm took one large swing, throwing another dart at the board, "I don't remember organising anything, what'd you do, Kiwi?"  
Ludwig could tell that he was high on something; he twitched uncomfortably and stared at Toby with a paranoid and menacing glare.

"Oz, calm, he just has an offer," Toby explained, not at all threatened by Oz's demeanour. "Friend."

"Alrightie," Oz chuckled as he walked to the bar, before taking a seat on a worn out bar-stool, "What can I do for you, mate?"

"Go on," Toby whispered to Ludwig as he pushed him forward, encouraging him to take a seat near Oz on a bar stool, with Toby taking a place behind the bar, before preparing a drink for Oz.  
Ludwig was glad to see that the double-agent had done such a good job at earning the confidence of a notorious drug-lord.

Ludwig glanced over at Oz, to see him already staring at him, studying him …  
"Well… I heard that you have information about the recent kidnapping of a CIA agent, and the gas bombing at the Globe theatre."

"What's it to you?" Oz asked, "You with the CIA?"

"Was," Ludwig admitted, "I work alone."

"Right…" Oz muttered, "What about it?"

Ludwig tried his best to not appear as nervous as he was, but the Australian's stare was destroying him, "I have a lot to offer you, and I don't need much. Just tell me what you know about the kidnappers."

"Heh," Oz chuckled as he smiled widely, confirming Ludwig's suspicions, "yes, those people have spoken to me, asking if I wanted to fucking _contribute_ , heh, what fantasists _._ I turned them down; I'm a drug-lord, not a terrorist. I like to stay in my line. Besides, I don't want those fuckers ruining my market."

"Well, I can help you get rid of them," Ludwig admitted, "The agent they took is very dear to me, and I will show them no mercy."

"Ohhh, a vigilante?" Oz chuckled, "I think I like you. Kiwi, pour him a drink."

"I'm fine, thank you," Ludwig replied.

"I'd love to help you get those bastards, but you know that I'm gonna need something in return, mate," Oz chuckled.

"I expected that," Ludwig pointed out, "I have friends within MI6, if you need them off of your back; I can buy you some time. Say… a month of unsupervised action, just imagine how much of your cargo you could get across the Channel in a month…"

"Hmm…" Oz mumbled as he rested his chin in his hand, deep in thought.

"If anything, you can only gain from this. I grant you this freedom and protect your market from the terrorists," Ludwig explained.

"Heh…" Oz chuckled before glancing at Ludwig as a crocked smile ran across his lips, _"I have an address."_

Meanwhile across the city, Gilbert checked his phone and sighed when he hadn't received a message back from Ludwig, however, he trusted that his little brother knew what he was doing.  
Gilbert glanced in through the window into the hospital room, to see Alfred lying motionless on the white bed, with Arthur hunched over, resting his head beside the Americans hand.  
Gilbert had been informed that there was some kind of relationship between the agents, but seeing them like this broke his heart…

"Agent Beilschmidt?" a voice asked, making the agent turn around to face a doctor.

"Is he going to be ok?" Gilbert asked.

"I'm not going to sugar-coat this…" the doctor sighed, "we don't know. There are so many mixed responses to the gas from all of the other victims. They suffer attacks and seizures with almost no provocation. Over half of the victims of the Globe theatre attack have died, and we don't know how many people had minimal exposure like agent Jones. There could be hundreds of people out there who are ticking time bombs. Whatever those terrorists are using to keep agent Vargas alive, we need it."

"I know…" Gilbert sighed as he glanced back into the room to see Arthur and Alfred, before looking back to the doctor.  
Gilbert thanked the doctor for his help before walking into Alfred's hospital room, he silently walked towards Arthur to see that the Brit's eyes were open, and he was staring at Alfred's hand, that was tangled with his own, confirming their relationship to the German.  
"Arthur."

Alfred was lying perfectly still, plastic tubes ran out of his nose and mouth, connecting him to a large machine that's loud hum echoed through the room. Despite his situation, Alfred looked as though he was merely sleeping.  
Arthur looked up at Gilbert with his tired and drained eyes, it was obvious: this case was killing him.  
"We're the only ones left; we need to act, _now."_

Without a word, Arthur rose from his seat and listened to Gilbert's orders. This was now the time to act, despite their plan being rushed and hindered by the loss of two agents; Arthur and Gilbert knew that they could manage to pull off their plan alone, they just needed to be strong.

Gilbert returned to the MI6 office alone, his anxiety masked by his confident smile as he made his way up to the offices where he and his companions worked. He rehearsed what he was going to say over and over again in his head, despite the constant practice, and Gilbert felt as though he could never perfect it: however there was no time for him to slack off!

"Yao," Gilbert stated as he walked to Yao's desk, startling the agent, "are you ok?"

"I'm fine; I just didn't get much sleep last night after hearing about…" Yao admitted, cutting himself off with a sigh, "is Alfred ok?"

"He's fine, for now," Gilbert replied, "that cure that those terrorists used on Feliciano would be extremely helpful right now…"  
Gilbert watched Yao's face change, confirming his suspicions even more, now was the time to pounce.

"You still haven't told me," Gilbert began, "How was your holiday to America? Didn't you go to Washington DC with your family recently?"

"Oh, it was fine, we visited family," Yao replied firmly.

"Funny, I looked at your records; you don't have any family in America…" Gilbert pointed out.

"He was a close friend, he was family to us," Yao admitted, his confident façade crumbling as Gilbert leaned in to question him further.

"Was?" Gilbert asked, "What happened to him?"

"Please, it's personal and our relationship is strictly work-related, so I would appreciate it if you stayed out of my private life," Yao snapped.

"In fact, I'm sure that this is the second time you've gone to America recently, was this also to visit your _friend?"_ Gilbert hissed. "Last time I check, you would have been in Washington at the same time as Arthur, care to elaborate?"

"I don't know what you're suggesting, Agent Beilschmidt, but I don't like it," Yao spat.

Gilbert chuckled as he casually leant forward, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, "Did you ever meet Agent Feliciano Vargas?"

"No, I had never heard of him before this case," Yao admitted, "I don't have connections to the CIA."

"Then how did you know him when he first appeared on the hostage video?" Gilbert asked, "As soon as he appeared, you announced who he was, like you wanted us to freak out!"

"You tell me about him all the time, and how he is close with your brother!" Yao snapped.

"I take Ludwig's security as seriously as I take mine, I would never talk about his private life with someone as suspicious as you!" Gilbert snapped, "did you really think that someone with a criminal past would be able to make it into MI6 without raising a couple of eyebrows, sure: you had your records deleted, but there are always ways of finding out who someone is! We know it was you Yao, and now we have the means to take you down for good!"

Yao's eyes narrowed with anger, "you have no proof."

"Oh yeah?" Gilbert chuckled, "do you want me to go through the case file, the one that you killed Kiku trying to get?!"

In their moment of intense silence, Yao realised that the time had come, he had been caught … however, instead of giving in; his lips curved into a crooked smile, revealing his true nature as he laid back in his chair, as if he was about to listen to an entertaining story, rather than incriminating evidence against him.  
 _"Go on, entertain me."_


	13. Chapter 13

Gilbert was ready to face the suspect, readying his words to be thrown like bullets, shattering any defence Yao had. Yao sat confidently, even having the bravery to cross his legs as though Gilbert was about to give a lecture.

"You went to America twice, once during Agent Williams kidnapping, and then again during the timeframe of Agent Vargas' kidnapping. You were in the same area as Matthew as well, I bet you were there."

"You can't prove that I was in the same area," Yao snapped, "I never met Agent Williams."

"We have security footage of you at a gas station down the block from McArthur High School, where Agent Williams was held hostage by Ivan Braginski and Francis Bonnefoy," Gilbert replied, "You may not have any solid crimes against your name, however your association with the Chinese and Russian underground says a lot about what kind of world you come from."

"That doesn't prove anything," Yao replied.

"You're right, but it's awfully coincidental that we can pinpoint your relationship with Braginski for years. You attended his court trials and you were always there to bail him out: we have the records; you were close, weren't you? Did he make you join MI6?"

"Heh, you cannot prove anything," Yao scoffed, a clear sign of his insecurity, letting Gilbert know that he was on the right track.

"You weren't happy about Ivan's death, and so you continued on with his plans to terrorise London and masked it as a plot in his honour. You even dragged your family into this, who are they? Your sister and-"

"I want a lawyer."

"Don't pull that bullshit on me, Yao!" Gilbert snapped, "You all had the means and the time to pull off such a plan. You went to university for chemistry for fucks sake, you know how to build bombs and compress gas. In fact… I bet it was your bomb that killed Ivan…"

Yao's eyes widened as his lips tightened, however, Gilbert did not to hear his confession, as he could see it in his eyes.

"You ride bikes; in fact, your sister's bank records show the purchase of two new ones: what are those for? Hm?" Gilbert asked.

"You've got nothing!" Yao snapped, tightening his grip on the arms of his chair, digging his short nails into the plastic.

"Oh, I'm just getting started!" Gilbert hissed as a dark smile crossed his lips. "You disappear from the office right before the attack on Globe Theatre, were you picking up your sister?"

"You can't prove that!"

"Kiku did. Kiku also provided me with recordings of your voice," Gilbert explained, "recordings that we showed to Vash Zwingli of which he confirmed was the same voice of the person who hired him to kidnap Elizabeta Beilschmidt. Heh… You tried to have my wife kidnapped to throw me off, lucky for me; my wife doesn't take any bullshit."

Gilbert's eyes narrowed when Yao did not offer any resistance, the young man just sat still in his chair with a look of shock frozen on his face, as though he was watching his entire plan fall apart.

"You know where the safe house is too, there's also that," Gilbert pointed out, "Speaking of addresses, you knew where Kiku lived and you knew when he would be home, however you were wrong in thinking that he had the case file. You killed him."

"I did not kill Kiku!"

"Oh yeah, but I bet that you were there!" Gilbert pointed out before leaning down in front of Yao, trapping him, "tell me where the bombs are, there's no point in fighting it. I have you."

"N-…" Yao gasped, his façade crumbling.

Gilbert knew now that he had to draw out his secret weapon, "Ludwig is on his way to the apartment you've been keeping Feliciano," Gilbert explained, "and he is going to kill everyone in between him and that Italian, no matter who they are, or how old they are."  
Yao's eyes widened as a horrible scenario played in his head, "Think about who is there right now, and imagine Ludwig getting his revenge. And you know what; Arthur and I don't exactly have the patience to stop him. You're made three highly skilled agents _very angry."_

"But … my…"  
Gilbert frowned, being able to imagine perfectly whom Yao was thinking about, and as the Asian's anxiety grew, Gilbert knew that he was pulling all of the right strings.  
 _His family_.

"Do the right thing Yao, as soon as you tell me where the bombs are, I can call off Ludwig's attack, if it's not too late." Gilbert explained before presenting a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket, dangling them like a toy in front of a baby. "Let's not make this hard—"

Gilbert's hand stung as it was swatted away from Yao's face, knocking the handcuffs out of his hand, right before a heavy kick to the stomach sent Gilbert falling back against a desk.

 _"_ _DO NOT PLAY GAMES WITH ME!"_ Yao snapped sliding open his desk drawer, and pulling out a small handgun. Instinctually Gilbert leapt over the desk and turned it over, using the wooden slate as a shield as Yao fired his first two shots, shooting two holes into the wood, one barely missing Gilbert's shoulder. Gilbert could hear Yao's panicked breaths, giving Gilbert the indication that he was having a panic-attack, Yao was shooting on instinct and Gilbert could not risk losing now.

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS, YAO!" Gilbert called, "THINK RATIONALLY."

 _"_ _SHUT UP!"_ Yao snapped, breathing heavily, "I need to get out of here…"

"NO YOU DON'T!" Gilbert snapped, running out of his hiding place, rushing towards the door in an effort to beat Yao to the exit. Yao shot at Gilbert as he ran, firing three shots that cracked the think glass of the windows, barely missing Gilbert. Gilbert suddenly changed his direction and rushed at Yao, determined to get the gun out of his hands and end this madness. _"I'm not letting you ruin this!"_  
Yao shrieked as he aimed the weapon and shot again, hitting Gilbert perfectly in the chest, Gilbert's eyes widened as he stumbled back, feeling the shock and the adrenaline spread from the place of impact to around his whole body.  
However, the lack of blood made Yao frown, until Gilbert straightened his back and flashed a devilish smile.

 _"_ _Haha,"_ Gilbert chuckled as tugged on the collar of his white business shirt, ripping off the first couple of buttons, all to reveal a dark bullet proof vest, _"Nice try."_

Yao frowned before Gilbert reached forward in an attempt to grab the smaller man, only to be kicked in the stomach and pushed back.  
Gilbert decided now that there was no more time for him to fool around like this, he needed to finish the battle, and now: before Ludwig does something he'll regret.  
Gilbert dodged all of Yao's attacks, thankful for his extensive training and skill, Gilbert ducked to avoid one of Yao's high kicks and swooped the pair of handcuffs off of the floor and snapped one around Yao's arm, making the man panic.

 _"_ _THINK ABOUT YOUR SON! THINK ABOUT LEON!"_ Gilbert snapped, making Yao freeze, before his eyes darted to Gilbert's direction, wide as though he was finally returning to his senses, "He's going to die if you don't end this, do the right thing for him!"  
Gilbert took Yao's moment of shock as on opportunity to turn him over and press his face into the desk as Yao chuffed his remaining hand, kicking away the gun.  
"Tell us where the bombs are, and a team will be sent out to stop Ludwig's assault, _hopefully_ your son is ok… we better pray that he is."

"You monster, you're using a boy as bait!" Yao snapped, "You had the power to end Ludwig's attack before it even begins, and yet you're here threatening me! You're risking your little brother too! Do you have no shame?!"

"I'm doing this because I know that there is no other way, you've pushed me too far Yao," Gilbert sighed.

 _"_ _You bastard!"_ Yao snapped, before sighing, "Fine… I'll tell you…"

Ludwig's bike screeched to a halt, and sat up straight and he looked up at the slab of concrete-excuse for a building that stood across the road from him. It was the perfect place for a hide-out, unattractive, a hive of drug users and prostitutes, the complete opposite to what most would expect a terrorist to hide, at least one with the power and arrogance of the terrorists who took Feliciano. Ludwig hid himself beside the building to hide as he tipped out the contents of his backpack, with the speed of an solider, Ludwig built his gun from the large parts that had been supplied to him, he knew that he was going to show no mercy to those who hurt Feliciano: no matter what agreement he had made with Gilbert.

The aim of the plan was to make Yao believe that Ludwig was rouge and dangerous, that he was going to mercilessly hunt those he cared about in his pursuit to find Feliciano and rescue him. Ludwig frowned as he buckled together the last parts of his gun.

Ludwig was going to show no mercy.

He ran into the apartment complex and ran up the stairs, determined to reach the floor that Oz had instructed. Nothing mattered to him anymore, he needed to see Feliciano again, to see his smile, hear his voice and feel his touch: the thought of rescuing him consumed him and nothing was going to stop him as he kicked open the door to the apartment and ran in.  
Naturally, Ludwig's presence caused a commotion, and it wasn't long before a woman with long dark hair and a small frame ran out of one of the bedrooms, carrying a gun.  
 _"GIVE HIM BACK!"_  
Ignoring Ludwig's demands, the woman began to scream in an Asian language as she attempted to shoot Ludwig, only to be shot down first and silenced forever.  
Ludwig could not feel remorse as he ran past the woman's corpse, consumed by anger and determination to complete his mission; he could hear more noises coming from the master bedroom.

As soon as Ludwig opened the door he froze in shock from the sight that befell him.

The entire bedroom had been transformed into a low-budget hospital and Feliciano was the unlucky patient. He laid motionless in the centre of the room, on a small and dirty bed, he looked weak and defeated, a shell of his usually bright and cheerful self. Feliciano was connected to an IV drip by his wrists, and another machine was connected to Feliciano by little tubes in his nose. However, the sight of a man wearing a disposable surgical mask standing beside Feliciano snapped Ludwig back into the reality of the situation, and he raised his weapon.

"DON'T SHOOT OR HE'LL DIE!" The young man screamed, raising his hands in submission, "PLEASE!"

Ludwig was almost angry enough to ignore him, however, he could not push himself to pull the trigger… he lowered his gun and marched towards the man, fighting every urge he had to punch him within an inch of his life. "What did you do to him?!"

"I'm keeping him alive!" The young man whimpered, "Please, I need to help him… I need to stay by him and administer the cure when he needs it! It's a very tedious process! Just please, do not shoot me!"

Ludwig frowned, before staring down at Feliciano, relieved to see his chest rise and fall with every weak breath, "fine, but if he dies, so do you."

"I'm fine with that…" The young man agreed, his eyes still reddened with tears and his voice quivering with fear, "so… you caught my dad…"

"Yes. And he is going to pay for this, all of you are," Ludwig growled.

"Oh…" the young man sighed as Ludwig walked around the bed, inspecting every inch of Feliciano, as though he was sceptical that this was the real thing, however, the aching beating of his heart confirmed otherwise. Ludwig could not stop staring at the Italian's face, almost becoming overwhelmed, all of the work that Ludwig had put into finding him was going to be worth it: as he was never going to lose Feliciano again.  
Ludwig reached for Feliciano's hand, feeling the Italian's soft, but damaged skin, relieved to still feel warmth radiate from him, reassuring Ludwig that everything was going to be ok…

Meanwhile Arthur listened to the engines of cars roar and the whispers of agents around him, Arthur breathed deeply against the pressure of his bullet proof vest, and against the strain of the heavy-duty gas mask. Arthur could hardly recognise the agents around him as he guided them around the small apartment complex. He waved his arm to gesture to the first group to travel around the back of the building, whilst he led the other agents in through the front: taking the front position himself.  
Alfred would have loved this, Arthur sighed, Alfred would have loved seeing Arthur in such a position of power, as well as the tension of the situation and the excitement of the rescue mission.

He climbed up the stairs as his agents followed him, dispersing onto every level, preparing to check every room and arrest everyone in sight: no stone must be left unturned.

Finally, Arthur reached the level that Ludwig had instructed and sighed when he saw that the door was left open, with the door handle suffering significant damage. Arthur silently led more agents into the room, before sighing at the discovery of the body of a woman, with a clear bullet shot to the head. Arthur motioned for two more agents to continue searching the apartment as he took out his radio.

"Causality on level four, target apartment, woman, Asian, around mid-twenties." Arthur explained, knowing that Gilbert is listening on the other end, "this is not good news for Yao. I'm assuming that it's his sister, no sign yet of Ludwig, Feliciano or Leon."

"Agent Kirkland," an agent called before walking down the hall, "targets found."

"Scrap that, targets found," Arthur explained into the radio as he ran down the hall, ripping off his gas mask, certain that the battle was over.

And surely enough, when Arthur entered the bedroom and say Feliciano lying in the bed with Ludwig standing beside him, he knew that his assumption was right.  
Arthur smiled as he picked up his radio and announced. "It's over."

Alfred's senses awakened as he felt the cool air pass through his lungs, bringing him back to life… he felt as though he had taken the longest sleep of his life: his entire body was numb and he was so confused: he could barely remember his own name.  
However the numbness was interrupted by a tingling sensation that rocketed through his hands and feet, as he heard noises gather around him. He was no longer filled with poison…. He could feel the control over his body return to him, and he finally forced his eyes open, only to be stung by the bright white light… it took little common sense to remind himself that he wasn't dead: no, Alfred knew that if he was going to die, he would put up a much greater fight…

"Alfred…" A soft voice murmured, sending a chill down Alfred's spine as he instinctually tightened his hands into fists, only to feel that something was already in his hand… as his feeling returned he realised that it was smaller, soft and warm. "He's squeezing my hand, he's waking up!"

 _"_ _Urh…"_ Alfred grumbled as he fought to wake up, determined to see the world around him and return to the world.

"Alfred," The voice called, as though reaching out to Alfred, begging him to come back. The voice was like a calling to Alfred, a beacon of hope… The voice was soft and refined, the accent attracting Alfred like a ship to a lighthouse.

As Alfred's vision returned to him, he came to understand where he was, and what had happened, and Alfred could finally see the face of the man who stood by his bed, holding his hand and whose voice guided him back to reality.  
"Arthur…"

Arthur smiled hopefully as he leaned into Alfred, inspecting every inch of his face, his smile widening as he came to realise that Alfred had returned to him. Without hesitation, Arthur leaned in closer and slightly parted his lips before turning his head on a slight angle. Alfred couldn't help but smile as Arthur lightly pressed his lips against Alfred's delivering a soft kiss, before parting slightly to chuckle, "welcome back…"

Slowly, but within the hour, Alfred had gained back his ability to move: which was expected, considering his minimal exposure, however, he knew that he was lucky. Immediately, doctors started using the cure according to Leon's advice, and surely, the young man was proven right, and proven to be a medical genius.

Ludwig waited patiently beside Feliciano's bed, having not moved from his side since he found him… At the news of Alfred regaining consciousness, Ludwig hoped for the best from Feliciano. However, despite how many times he had been given the cure, Feliciano remained in his deep sleep.

"How's he doing?" A voice asked as the door to Feliciano's room opened. Ludwig looked up from Feliciano to see Arthur wheeling Alfred into the room, as the American sat patiently in a wheelchair, wearing the loosely-fitting blue hospital-clothing, as though he had just gotten out of bed.

"He's ok, he's going to be ok," Ludwig answered, "We just need him to wake up… He's squeezed my hand a couple of times, and has murmured a little bit…"

"He will wake up soon, I'm sure of it," Arthur muttered.

"How are you feeling?" Ludwig asked Alfred as Arthur wheeled the American to sit next to Feliciano's bed. Alfred smiled as he took Arthur's hand as his face wore a grateful smile.

"I feel fine, I'm only in the chair as a precaution," Alfred explained, "I'm sure that Feliciano will be the same."

"We have heard more from the doctors, regarding the other patients, they're beginning to wake up," Arthur explained. "We've managed to prevent the death toll from rising over fifty, so we have a lot to be proud of."

"I know we do…" Ludwig sighed, looking back to Feliciano, internally begging for him to wake up, as Ludwig knew that he would not rest peacefully until he knew that Feliciano was going to be safe from any more danger. "I'm going to make them pay for hurting him…"

"Don't worry, Yao and Leon are in custody. There is no doubt that Yao will be going to prison… But Leon… He's _difficult."_

"Why?" Ludwig asked.

"He's sixteen," Arthur answered.  
Alfred frowned as he watched Ludwig's expression change, before returning to his stern frown. Alfred know what Ludwig was thinking about, or rather; who he was thinking about, before Ludwig's anger masked his ability to rationalise and accept the possibility of leniency for Leon.

"As soon as Feliciano can, we are going to go back to America and see what we can do," Ludwig explained, "He assisted in the kidnapping and torture of a top CIA agent, there has to be something that we can do."

"But he's still a child, and Yao influenced him," Arthur pointed out, "he was only following his father."

"Fine, I don't care, we'll sort this out when we return home," Ludwig replied, blatantly rejecting Arthur's point.

"Um…" Alfred muttered, "About going back to America…"

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked as Alfred smiled nervously before turning to look at Arthur.

"I…" Alfred muttered, his anxiety growing larger with each passing second, "I'm not ready to say goodbye… and well… I don't have much waiting for me in America, ever since Matt left, I find myself being unable to function, but you taught me that I can get better and that there is always a way around a problem. I want to stay here." Alfred finally turned to Ludwig, whose face was frozen with shock, as he analysed what Alfred was saying, "Is there any way that I can defer from the CIA and join MI6?"

 _"_ _I can make that happen…"_ A weak voice murmured, stealing the attention of everyone in the room.

"FELI!" Ludwig gasped as he tightly grasped Feliciano's hand, "you're back… you're actually back…"  
Feliciano smiled at Ludwig as the German began to crumble, his knees wobbling as his head fell on the pillow beside Feliciano's face, being careful to not smother the weak Italian.

Feliciano chuckled weakly as his eyes wandered around the room, taking in the sight of everyone who stood around him.  
It was then that Ludwig began to lose his composure, his adrenaline was unable to calm down as he held on tightly to Feliciano, internally making a vow to protect him to the best of his ability.  
No one was ever going to separate them again, and Ludwig was going to fight to the death to keep that vow.

"He's too young for adult prison," Gilbert sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest, sighing from the tediousness of the situation.  
It had been over a week since Leon was placed in custody, awaiting the determination of his fate. Alfred had returned to work, determined to find a place within MI6, whilst Feliciano had begun his intense rehabilitation, with Ludwig only parting from his side for work.

"But he's still dangerous, and the CIA wants a piece of revenge against him and his father," Ludwig pointed out.

"But, he's still a kid…" Alfred muttered, sighing when his statement went unnoticed.

Arthur glanced to his right to look through the window into the interrogation room, watching the teenager nervously play with his fingers. Arthur couldn't help but sigh, the doctors were hailing this child as a medical genius, praising him for being able to create and administer a cure for the terrible gas that he and his father had created, no doubt with the help of Ivan Braginski. This boy had a lot of potential, it was a shame that he was led down a bad path…  
Testimonies from both Leon and Yao built the teenagers story, he was born in Hong Kong and raised by his father and aunty. Ivan had been a large part of Leon's life, considering that Ivan had been granted the title of being Leon's godfather. Ivan had taken Leon and his family all around the world for their work. Leon had even known Francis and heard stories about Mathieu, but had never met him. Ivan acted as a teacher for Leon, inspiring him to study chemistry and medicine, and providing him with the guidance to perform his experiments and knowledge to guide him along the way.  
Arthur and Alfred had been talking, drawing multiple comparisons between Leon and Matthew, and were unable to deny that their stories were eerily similar.

"I say we reform him," Arthur pointed out, "think about it, he's just like Matthew!"

"Don't compare him to Matthew…" Ludwig hissed.

"Don't ignore the facts!" Arthur snapped, "He is not only a child, but a child with potential! Imagine what wonders he could do with his knowledge, we just need to lead him down the right path. You gave Matthew that chance … why won't you give it to him?"

"He's refusing to talk," Gilbert pointed out, "he's not giving us much of an idea of what he is capable of, including reformation. This is going to be difficult, Arthur…"

"Then leave him to me," Arthur spat, "I will look after him and guide his reformation, he will be my responsibility!"

Alfred watched as Arthur argued his case, admiring his strength… however, Alfred knew that he could not just sit back and do nothing, he had to help Arthur and save Leon.  
Alfred turned around and stormed out of the room, making sure that he stole everyone's attention, Alfred quickly swapped rooms and entered the interrogation room.

Knowing that everyone was watching him through the double-sided mirror, Alfred smiled at Leon and took at seat across the table from the teenager.

"Hey…" Alfred murmured as he casually sat, smiling at Leon.  
Unsurprisingly, Leon did not mutter a single word, he stared down at the table as his knees began to jump, overwhelmed by the anxiety.  
"You know, I knew someone like you. He was my best friend."

That statement caught Leon's attention, and the teenager lifted his head to listen, "What do you mean?"

Alfred smiled sweetly, doing all he could to ease the teenagers anxiety, "His dad was a bad guy… but he loved him… and he knew that he wanted to do the right thing by his father and so, he hurt people… He was sixteen when he was taken into custody, and put into a reformation program. He passed with flying colours and became one of the bravest agents I had ever known… he was my best friend, and I know that I will never have a friend like him. He was in the exact same position as you are now. He was scared, he didn't know what was going to happen to him… But he knew that he was going to make it, he was determined to do well and make up for the mistakes he made. And I know that you are capable of doing that too."

"Who was he?" Leon asked, Alfred's story had caught the teenager's attention, coaxing him to imagine the possibilities that were laid before him.  
Alfred smiled, knowing that everyone on the other side of the glass was watching him, and understanding what he was doing, and seeing that it was working.

"His name was Matthew."


End file.
